Hidden Force
by Ash Darklighter
Summary: Now Complete. Working within the Imperial system, cut off from her family - a young girl tries to help the rebellion in her own way.
1. Default Chapter

Chapter 1 ****

Disclaimer - the characters and situations used in this story are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd. My thanks to Mona for her work in getting this ready to post along with Aria and JT.

Ash

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Hidden Force

Chapter 1

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Raithal Imperial training Facility, Core Region - time ANH

The gut wrenching fear stopped her in her tracks as she sped along the corridor. Faltering she slowed as she searched around her for the location of the vague feeling of unimaginable horror that waited.

Maija took a deep breath and counted several blocks of carved and gleaming marble before her world abruptly tilted and darkness claimed her. She came to moments later with a bone-jarring shudder as her impact against the polished flooring made itself felt. Focusing shakily on a pair of enormous boots made her head jerk upwards in shock and then wish that she hadn't as her world spun crazily around her again. The huge face belonging to a large bulk of a man sporting a military haircut peered down at her.

"You okay, little one?"

The kind face of Cadet Franjeer Nerano stared down before pulling her to a seated position and resting Maija against the polished marble wall.

"I slipped, I was running…"

"Cadets should always march in a dignified and orderly manner," he recited in a parade ground tone. "Little one, you could have come a real cropper there."

He surveyed the girl. Small for her age with a thin, plain white face which showed off sharp cheekbones and enormous dark eyes. They seemed to be old, those eyes. There was a wary watchfulness and the hint of a burden too great for such slender shoulders. Maija Darklighter was the youngest cadet ever to have been accepted at the Raithal Academy. At this present moment, being smaller and lighter than her peers she suffered in the physical education parts of the course. But put her in front of a machine or let her talk her way around intergalactic protocols, it was a completely different story. She didn't draw attention to herself in any way if she could possibly help it, but he liked her. Although he was good at feats of strength and endurance, when it came to the things that showed your breeding as an Imperial officer, galactic history, music, art - things like that, he was at the bottom of the pile. So they helped each other. Maija liked to call them beauty and the brains and Nerano had laughed, taking away the brutish look he had. Maija already knew that appearances could be deceptive and was using that to her advantage. Still, Nerano admitted to himself there was a lot about herself that she kept hidden. Even in their psych evaluations Maija revealed what she wanted you to know and then skilfully evaded all probing questions. When they'd tested on low-level narcotics during an exercise, to see how they would hold out in the eventuality of capture and possibly torture and interrogation while drugged, the transcription of her tape had been remarkably bare.

The commanders had chuckled to themselves. She hadn't lived much of a life to have things to tell.

Nerano shook his head, the action strangely at odds with his fierce appearance. "You take care. There are enough nasty things out there, like terrorist rebels, without you doing yourself in. This shiny white stuff is hard on the head. As I said - you could have come a real cropper there."

She grinned suddenly and her face lit momentarily into a startling beauty. "It's Erindan quartz." She indicated the greenish stone. "And this is Alderaani white marble. It might come up in one of the tests."

"I hope so, now. But seriously, little Darklighter, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. Go on – haven't you got a class?"

She watched as he walked away and she closed her eyes in relief. One of the flight instructors walked past with a curious look and Maija bent to pick up her scattered belongings. A data pad here, a couple of info-chips there. She picked them up and moved dazedly to her tiny room in one of the hostels.

The feeling of unnamed dread stayed with her all day. Perhaps her father would know what it was, but he was on Alderaan working at the High Court in the service of the Viceroy.

Very few Alderaanians attended the Academy, something the Empire was aware of. Maija frowned - she had picked up some feelings of disapproval on the holonet about the behaviour of the Organa family. Maija hoped that the Empire would never find out that the Organas were founders of the Rebellion and that her own parents were those accursed terrorists Nerano had spoken so lightly about.

***********************************

Maija pulled on her sleeping shift and climbed wearily into her narrow sleeping pallet. Closing her eyes she eased carefully into sleep, but her sleep was a troubled one. Visions of apocalyptic terrors and lights vanishing from the sky, rivers of blood fading into nothing but the starry sky itself.

Maija had transferred to the Raithal Academy from an accelerated learning programme in Anchorhead. Her high scores in the galactic tests had given her family no choice in the matter. It had never occurred to them that she should do badly so that she would remain with her family. Life at Raithal had been bleak for the girl, but it was acceptable. She was too young to fit in with her peers and therefore she threw herself into her work. But her aim was to learn enough to fight against the Empire, not for it. Living on the rim had opened her eyes to how little the Empire cared and the tales of cruelty were more openly circulated out there. Nerano had done a little to assuage her loneliness, but she couldn't really trust him. If he'd known what she had done to help an enemy of the Empire escape, he would have been appalled. Maija wondered after all this time how the woman was.

About a year ago she had met and warned Mon Mothma of an attempt on her life. Mon Mothma had been, at one time, an influential Senator from the planet Chandrila. But, unhappy with the Emperor's activities, she'd had become one of the leaders in the fledgling rebel alliance and her life had been in danger. Maija, on a secret tip off from her parents who were acting under orders from the Viceroy, had helped Mon Mothma disappear from Raithal. The rebellion was growing and her parents had become heavily involved. Young as she was, they had never hidden anything from her. If her father had thought Mon Mothma was in danger, then she was and Maija owed it to them to help. She knew the risks. Maija had met and warned the woman and had managed, by hacking into the main computer, to find out what had been done to sabotage the ship. Mon Mothma had disappeared into hiding. Maija hoped she was still alive.

Maija knew from computer reports she had had managed to see and from the basic common sense trait of observation, that cadet entries into Raithal had been heavily increased. Raithal was the best training school in the Core Regions and produced the brightest and best ready to serve the Empire and its Emperor. Now they were needed to save that Empire. So it wasn't just quality they wanted – it was quantity. The Rebellion's actions must be starting to hurt the Empire. Her mouth firmed slightly; she had no option but to do what she could. 

The next day dawned bright and clear, but a strange watchfulness hung in the air. Something had happened - she just knew by her sense in the Force. She slipped the unitech patch into her pocket and moved into her seat in the computer lab. 

'_I'll only be able to use this once just now and if I'm caught it's the end of a promising Imperial career.'_

The unitech patch was a small piece of slicing equipment that, when it was applied to a computer system, re-routed any security so a break in could not be detected. The problem was if anyone became suspicious and started sending enquiries to the 'patch' it couldn't cope. Her mother had obtained for her the last time she'd been home. Maija had managed to smuggle it onto the campus. However it would get her past the security protocols for now and that was all she needed. She wasn't going to be with the Imperials any longer than she could help.

An hour later she sat stunned and pale at what she'd learned. The Senate disbanded, Princess Leia Organa reported killed from an unexplained mishap to her ship and there were rumours of some big catastrophe. Nothing concrete had come up in the reports. She rubbed a clammy hand over a chalk white face and closed her eyes.

Princess Leia Organa was the daughter of Bail Organa, Viceroy of Alderaan, and one of the youngest Senators ever to have been appointed. Maija had a sneaking admiration and regard for the young woman because she argued so strongly in the Senate for what she believed in, whether it agreed with the official view or not. Lately it had been more 'not'. The criticism of the Organas had been slowly building in loyal Imperial press. Was Leia Organa so dangerous that the Empire had killed her? Maija knew with a stomach churning certainty that had been the case. If she weren't yet dead she soon would be.

The Rebellion had been in operation for as long as the Emperor had been on the throne but lately, as the Empire had grown more corrupt and its methods more cruel, the rebellion had increased its efficiency and bettered its organisation. Things were happening.

"Uh oh," she muttered quietly as the display began to flash erratically in front of her eyes and turn into unintelligible gibberish. Someone had caught on to her digging. She'd tripped one of the alarms hidden in systems like these. _'Better get out fast, Maija'_ she told herself and bent her head as she quickly moved to clear any hint of her location from the system. The unitech had its limitations. Her mother had said she would know when to use it. She hadn't said that she would like what she had learned.

__

Her mother - she would never see her again.

Maija's blood ran cold. Her fingers shook and her face whitened even more if that was possible. She had to get out of here and it had to be now. Grabbing the patch she logged off and ran from the building. 

Maija kept walking, her face set, until she reached her favourite hiding place in the well-designed ornamental gardens kept for show. Curling up into a little ball, she sought her inner strength, but it wasn't enough and the tears fell.

__

'How could I know this? _I don't understand_,_ but I know and it has something to do with the big catastrophe.'_ But deep inside her head she did know and instinctively and unconsciously closed her mind, snapping it shut around her most precious essence. It would be too dangerous to use the gift she'd inherited. The gift of the Force.

* * * * *

The main lecture theatre was crammed full and the Commanding Officer in charge of the Raithal training facility - Commander Andrei Ryyklas - stood with his head bowed. He was unable to believe that the information he had to impart to the cadets was really true, but the Emperor, himself had broadcast the news to his Empire. He took a deep breath, his face grave.

"We are here to mourn a great tragedy. One of the brightest and most beautiful of the Core Worlds has destroyed itself. Unknown to us, Alderaan had been experimenting with a dangerous weapon and due to a build up of toxic gasses eventually blew itself apart. It is rumoured the royal family had links with the Rebellion. It is criminal that such people could have doomed a whole world to total oblivion. Our hearts grieve for the lost world of Alderaan and for its tragic people."

He stared at the sea of shocked faces before him. It was hard to believe that the notoriously pacifist Alderaanians had practised such duplicity. He would have to check the records, but he didn't think they had any cadets from Alderaan training at this time and then his mood hardened. At least the rebel sympathisers had perished.

Maija crushed her hands into fists. '_No!' _she thought. '_It's a lie. I know it didn't happen that way, Alderaan had no weapons. The Empire has to be behind this. My poor, poor parents. Mother would have told me… I can't stay here any longer_. _I can't_ _stay and be a part of something which destroys life.'_ The Empire had dealt the rebellion a crushing blow. Alderaan had secretly been aiding the rebels for many years, equipping and organising it and the Emperor had suspected this but had had no proof. Now he'd gutted the life from the Rebellion. The Organa family had been that life.

__

'Whatever happens, whatever I do, I will continue to serve the light.' Maija had no idea where her words had come from, but they were good and strong and she needed them so badly._ 'I will continue to serve the tradition of the Rebel Alliance from inside the belly of the beast. I will do what I can to help people like my family. The Empire will pay.'_ There was the sound of a chuckle in the wind and the sigh of an old man and the scent of the desert in the early morning. How she missed it.

"Cadet?" 

The voice broke into her pained thoughts. 

"Cadet Darklighter?"

"What!" Maija jumped to her feet. "Sir?" 

She followed Lieutenant Vordan's gaze as the rest of her year group filed out. Maija had been left sitting in her own private pain.

"My parents…."

Vordan was an older experienced officer, liaison and councillor to Maija's year group. He'd been wary of accepting such a young person and a girl at that into his group, but she was coping well with most of the work and outstandingly with the rest.

"Cadet Darklighter," he tried again. Something was obviously wrong. "Dreaming on a mission could get you killed."

For all her mental strength even Maija sometimes forgot she was a child. She'd never really had the chance to be one and that was the part that was hurting now.

"My parents were on Alderaan. They worked for a communications company."

"You're Alderaanian?" He tried to remember where she'd come from – there were very few Alderaanians at the Academy.

"No, from Tatooine."

"Oh, Outer Rim. Cadet, you've come a long way."

"It was my test scores, Sir. They were too high to remain in the school I'd been at. They didn't know what to do with me." She was babbling. Vordan was no more interested in that bit of news than he would be if a bantha took flight.

__

'Of course', he mentally reviewed her file.

"But my parents…" She brushed a tear quickly, lest it be considered a weakness. "I lived with them on Aldera until I returned to stay with my Aunt and Uncle on Tatooine. I haven't seen my parents for nearly a year… and now I'll never see them again." Her voice broke a little.

"You're relieved of classes for the rest of the week. Is there anyone at home you want to contact? Your cousin? Didn't he attend the Academy last year?"

"My Aunt and Uncle, sir. It's too far to travel home, but I'd like to talk to them if I may?"

"Permission granted, Cadet."

"Sir, I'd prefer to attend classes. I feel I can do more for the Empire that way. My parents would wish it."

"A notable attitude, Cadet. The Empire will not forget your devotion to duty."

"Thank you, Sir." Maija turned, her straight back stiff, and walked slowly from the room.

***************

"I need a secure frequency to Tatooine," she mumbled to herself. "I have to speak to my aunt." Maija tapped into the location and then attached a small device to the console. If anyone were monitoring conversations today, they would lose this one. There could be no witnesses to a conversation with her aunt. Not this conversation.

The picture of her aunt was fuzzy, but Tatooine was a vast distance away. Maija could still tell she was crying. "I want to come home…"

"NO! It's not safe." Kendra Darklighter's face stiffened in horror.

"What?"

"There are things happening we don't understand. Your Grandfather has disappeared. Owen and Beru Lars were murdered by sandpeople and their nephew Luke has disappeared too."

"Mother and Father?" she asked but she knew anyway. She had felt the death knell.

"Alderaan has been completely destroyed. They were building illegal weapons and the planet blew itself apart."

"That's not true. I just know it's not true."

"What does the Force tell you?"

"I don't know. I can't feel it anymore. It's gone."

"Maija, it's your gift."

"How can it be a gift if it gets the people I love killed?"

"Your parents didn't have the Force and you didn't get them killed."

"No, but grandfather did have it," Maija gasped. "He's dead, but the boy is still alive."

"The boy?"

"The boy he took with him." Maija asserted.

"Luke Skywalker. He was with your grandfather?"

"He wasn't with the others when they were found. If he had been, he would have been a burning corpse too." Maija's eyes widened. "How could I know this? You're wrong, Aunt. This is not a gift - it's a curse." Maija slammed some barriers in her mind and a strange blank numb feeling remained.

Her aunt blinked. Her niece had uncanny abilities, but how she could know about Owen and Beru… "Maija…" Kendra murmured helplessly. They were so far away "Your grandfather… There's no proof that he's dead. He's vanished without a trace - that's all. Beru and Owen – all that are left of them were the burning corpses. Your uncle and some of the other settlers saw they had a decent burial. How do you know the old man is dead?"

"I don't know." Maija tentatively contacted the part of her that instinctively told her what she needed to know. For the first time in her life she felt nothing. Stunned she covered her mouth with a slim hand. "I cannot use my gift - I can't feel it. It's gone. I knew when the planet blew. I felt the people crying in my head. I saw the burning bodies and I felt his pain. But since then – nothing. Perhaps I've no longer got it. I wished for it to be gone and now it has."

"Be careful, Maija. I think it's just a reaction. When you are calm and at peace you will touch it again." Her aunt's wise words echoed in her ears but she didn't really hear.

"I'm not going to use it. Anyone with that ability disappears. I've seen it happen. But I want to come home. I need to see the two suns, smell the breath of the desert wind. I need to be with _you_."

Merdom Darklighter replaced his wife on the screen. "You're safer where you are, _wokling_. We've got other things to worry about too."

"Other things – what's happened?" Maija's tone darkened. What weren't they telling her?

"It's Biggs…" He choked a little and even with the distorted picture Maija could see all the strain and the worry her Uncle was trying to hide.

"Biggs – he's not…?"

"We don't know. Your aunt and I are expecting a visit from the local Imperial bureau investigator within the next few days. Biggs defected to the Rebellion. His father is beside himself with worry."

"Biggs did?" she whispered quietly, a feeling of dread gnawing at her stomach.

"Yeah, he jumped ship with several of his comrades and hasn't been heard from since. Your aunt is sick with worry and so am I."

"He'll be all right. He's good." But as she tried to reassure her family a sinking feeling of dread told her the truth.

"Yeah, wokling, he is - one of the best."

She pictured her handsome older cousin piloting his speeder round Anchorhead with the Skywalker boy. Merdom and Kendra had spent a lot of time with Biggs after his mother had died and because Biggs hadn't been close to his father, he had been very close to Kendra and Merdom. But Uncle Huff did love his son very much and had been so proud of him when he'd graduated from the Academy.

"So I have to stay here?"

Merdom sighed. He hated that she was so far away and so young, but she was safer in the core of the Empire than she was in the heart of her family and at a time when she needed them most. She was only fifteen and now orphaned because of the power games people liked to play.

He watched with a breaking heart as her little face turned to pale stone. No emotion showed, but if you searched for secrets in her eyes, they told you she'd seen more than she ever wanted to and had lost more too.

Then just for an instant the façade cracked. "I love you both," she whispered and a tear ran down her cheek and she was their little niece again. The Darklighters blinked and the child vanished to be replaced by the cadet. They strained to see her as the picture vanished until she was totally gone from sight.

"Little One, you'd better get that thing you've got flashing away out of here. Lieutenant Bracxias is heading this way. That thing looks illegal."

"Franjeer, you scared the life out of me." Maija jumped in shock. Normally she'd been able to sense people, but she'd not felt a thing. Then it was as she'd thought. With the death of her family, the ability had gone. Perhaps it never was real in the first place.

Maija cut the link and turned warily to face up to her friend. The familiar faces of her relatives vanished and the scrambler vanished quickly into her pocket.

"Are you gonna tell me what that was?"

"Tell you what?" she returned smoothly.

"That little flashing thing which disappeared into your pocket there?"

"Oh, that little thing…. No, I'm not telling you. I think you know."

"Why?"

"Do you think I'm a traitor? I have no access to the internal secrets of the Empire. I'm only a cadet. Who's going to believe you?"

"I didn't say I thought you were a traitor, nor was I going to shop you to the authorities. I just want to know what you are up to. You have a devious little mind, Darklighter."

"It's not little."

"It's devious."

"We cannot talk here unless you are going to report me to Lieutenant Bracxias for having in my possession an illegal piece of equipment."

"No, I won't but I'd like to know."

"Fair enough," she conceded and led the way back to her quarters, all the while thinking up what she could tell him that he would find convincing.

Maija perched on her bed, her feet curled up underneath her and tried to give her friend a plausible explanation. It wasn't that she didn't trust _him_. She didn't trust anybody.

"My parents were on Alderaan and they worked for a communications firm. My mother gave me this little scrambler just in case I ever needed to contact the family urgently."

Nerano frowned a little. "But you could have contacted them without it. You had nothing to hide and were given permission."

"I just like to think that my business is my business. I wanted to speak to my aunt and uncle without being monitored. I've just lost my parents."

"I realise that and I'm sorry." 

She was very calm. If he hadn't known her, he might have said she was unaffected, but there was a little tremor in her voice and her hands trembled slightly.

Maija could see that he was unconvinced, but she didn't want him knowing things that could endanger them both.

"Listen Nerano, every communication we make outside the Raithal Academy is listened to. We could be sending top secret details of the training regime."

"You weren't?" The big man looked horrified at the thought.

"No. My aunt and uncle live on Tatooine. Who's interested in training regimes there?"

"Where is Tatooine?"

"Outer Rim." 

"No, I suppose not." 

Mara gave her large friend a bitter smile. "Now you should know where Tatooine is. It would improve your scores in galactic history. But I'm glad I used the scrambler. My family have given me disturbing news. This mustn't get out for it would ruin my chances of getting a decent posting." Maija winced inwardly at her words, but he mustn't suspect she was not totally committed to the Imperial cause.

"Look, I'm only telling you because you saw…." She jerked her head. "You mustn't tell anyone."

"Okay," Nerano shrugged.

"My cousin has defected to the Rebellion and I have no love for the rebels, Nerano, but I can't risk my place at this school."

He understood that sentiment.

"Your cousin?"

"My cousin, Biggs Darklighter."

"He was one of the top graduates only last year."

"He was. But inside him there must have been a flaw."

She thought about the big man as she closed her door on him. He was a good man, but he was an Imperial first and he would hesitate about informing on her. Eventually he would do it if he had to.

Maija pulled out a holo of her family and ran her fingers gently over the strong smiling face of Petros Nethwan Kenobi. Or as he was known on Alderaan and Tatooine – Petros Darklighter. Her mother's beautiful determined face smiled at her husband warmly, their hands clutching the thin shoulders of the small child who squinted bravely into the camera. Her face already showed a wary watchfulness. She could not risk her family being investigated or her loyalties questioned. She had to be one of the best in the Academy, but not the very best. That also got you noticed. It was a fine line you had to tread.

Maija stared out the window into the gathering gloom and let down her guard. The pain of loss gripped her small frame and she gave into her grief.

When the storm of weeping had passed, she lifted her small sharp chin with a defiant sniff and stared herself down in the reflector. Maija didn't know how young and utterly defenceless she appeared, her face white and blotchy and her eyes red. But in her eyes the knowledge of too much pain was already there.

"I will not cry. No more of this. I have to be strong for my parents' memory."

And the barriers continued to build around her fragile emotions blocking off her feelings. 

****

Barthol Prime

The small planet of Barthol Prime was so unimportant and poverty stricken that the Empire had largely overlooked it. They maintained a small garrison, but so little happened on Barthol Prime that they had considered pulling out altogether. The native population were dirt-poor farmers only interested in scratching out some form of a life for themselves. It also boasted a small rebel cell. Barthol Prime was the third planet in a system revolving round a dying star. Eventually it would become uninhabitable but still the people clung to the hope that something could be done. The Imperials were so unimpressed with the place; they considered the planet too lowly even for rebels to bother with.

Mon Mothma, the leader of the Rebel Alliance, sat tensely waiting for news. She'd been flown off Yavin IV as soon as the news of the approaching Death Star had been reported. With only time to quickly embrace Leia, she left, pausing to frown at the blonde young man in the desert clothes. He seemed so out of place - just a boy who should be at home with his family or hanging out with friends, not involved in a conflict that would surely get him killed. One more reason the Empire had to be stopped. They had sent too many young people into battle to die for nothing.

General Rieekan came running into the room, tears streaming down his face. "They did it. Somehow they did it."

"Did it?"

"The Death Star – destroyed." His voice dropped to a whisper. "It's gone."

"Whaat!" She was on her feet and crying with him in amazement and relief. She could hear the cheering and the shouting from the rest of the base.

"I just had a transmission from one of our scout ships."

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"With what's just happened? I don't think so."

"When did this happen?"

"About four hours ago." Carlist Rieekan's face held the look of someone afraid to believe the good tidings.

"I must go and speak with them."

General Rieekan sighed. "They already know. I blurted it out in front of a couple of the pilots - the talkative ones. The com's down, I'm afraid, although with those characters around you don't need a com system. But you will be able to – soon."

"How?" Mon Mothma looked at her hands and they were shaking. "How did they manage…?" She wet her dry lips. "I need some water."

Carlist Rieekan brought her a cup of water and sat down across from her. He rubbed his forehead. "This is only the beginning. We've won a battle, but are still a long way from winning the war."

"Tell me," she demanded. "How did they manage to destroy that planet killer?"

"Princess Leia was brought to Yavin by a smuggler by the name of Solo and a youth from the planet Tatooine. The boy's family had bought droids to use on their farm. They were the droids in which Princess Leia had hidden the complete schematics to the Death Star. Somehow he managed to contact..."

"The boy?"

"Yes. Somehow he got off Tatooine and they set off for Alderaan. Instead they ended up on the Death Star and got the Princess out. The boy volunteered to fly a fighter and scored a direct hit on the thermal exhaust port. This set off a chain reaction which destroyed the Death Star."

"The boy did? That was him in the white desert robes?"

"As I said, he volunteered to fly a fighter." The general held his hand up and continued. "They put him in a simulator first. They've never seen test scores that high – ever."

"Ever!"

"Yes, apparently he comes from a line of crack pilots. "

"From Tatooine? I may be overcome here, but…" her mouth twitched. "Tatooine has produced some excellent pilots, but not children. That boy looked as if he should have been in schooling somewhere, not out blowing up Deathstars."

"His name is Luke Skywalker."

Mon Mothma stopped in shock. "Skywalker?"

"So the name is familiar to you too?"

"It's not a common name. I only ever heard of one other. A Jedi with the given name of Anakin and that was a long time ago."

"The boy had been living on Tatooine with his aunt and uncle. Imperials murdered them and he met up with Obi Wan Kenobi."

"Obi Wan?" Her voice hushed in shock. "Obi Wan is still alive?"

"I'm afraid not. He died so that Skywalker and Solo could get the Princess off the Death Star."

Mon Mothma's brow furrowed. "You don't just meet up with a Jedi Knight, Carlist."

"No, perhaps not. But such speculations will have to wait. We cannot rest now. We will have to leave Yavin – the Empire will send the rest of the fleet there to destroy us."

"Here?"

"Too far away from anywhere. It takes too long to get here even in hyperspace. It's a stopgap for the moment, but no use for staging hit and run sorties into enemy territory. The sooner we pack up and leave here the better satisfied I'll be. I'm not convinced of our safety here."

"If I remember rightly, Obi Wan Kenobi's apprentice was called Anakin Skywalker. Things are making sense. Could Anakin have fathered a son?"

Carlist Rieekan shrugged. "I don't know; still, it's possible, but not important just now."

"Mona Mothma cleared her throat, still too shaken by the unexpected survival and victory of their forces." She peered up at the tall grey-headed soldier. "What of our quest to find spies?"

"I'd like to introduce you to a young man." The General went to the door and beckoned.

A nondescript man of medium height, with average facial features - in fact, with average everything - wandered into the lounge.

"This is Lieutenant Cullen Page."

"Ma'am," the man said. "I believe you are familiar with my father. He was a Senator from Corulag."

Mon Mothma's jaw dropped. She did indeed remember and dislike his father. Her mouth opened and a strangled sound of protest emerged.

"I see you are acquainted with the old man. Pleasant isn't he? My father and I don't get on very well these days - if we ever did. He and I like to differ on our political and moral philosophies."

General Rieekan offered Page a seat, before seating himself. "Cullen here is one of our best undercover operatives and has just been assigned to General Cracken's new Intelligence unit. He has been looking over the information you gave him just over a year ago."

"The tip off which led me to finally drop out of sight."

"Yes."

"It was unusual because it was given by a child. But she was correct in her information."

"A child? Did you find out her name?"

"No. But it must be possible because they don't normally allow children onto the campus at Raithal."

"Who knew where you were?"

"My itinerary wasn't well known for security reasons, but it had been announced that I was speaking at Raithal and the date was known."

"I believe I have an idea," the grey-eyed Page announced calmly. "We had operatives on Alderaan who had a daughter in Raithal. They died when the planet was destroyed."

"Can you contact her? Would she be willing?"

"I can find out."

"Do it." Mon Mothma said firmly. "Things will get worse before they get better."

"This is true, Ma'am," remarked Page. "We may have vanquished a Death Star but our fight is not going to end there. They will want their revenge."

****

Raithal Imperial Training Academy - six months later

Maija looked at the devices laid out in front of her as the tutor illustrated some of the finer points of encrypting and decrypting Imperial messages. They had been given several of the old codes to work on as exercises. Maija had broken them easily over half an hour ago.

"Cadet Darklighter!" The stentorian voice rang down the lab. "The Empire does not pay its cadets to dream. Carry on with your work."

"But Lieutenant, I finished the exercises."

"Oh?"

"I'll patch them to you now."

The Lieutenant's eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. "Very good," she said, surprised.

"Could I examine the a/e unit."

"Certainly."

"Maija moved carefully to the front and inspected the device. It was quite large, but if reports were correct it could really help. The analysis/encoding computer could take a file, open it, analyse the data and then recode it. Maija's expression grew intent and, seeing the girl's face, Lieutenant Bracxias thawed sufficiently to give her a demonstration.

"It was getting very difficult to keep one step ahead of the child", she confided to one of the commanding officers later that evening. Because she was on an accelerated programme, as soon as she turned sixteen she was to be given a posting. The Academy had trained her as far as they were able to in her field. He shrugged and looked at her file. She had stated an interested in the diplomatic course, but they only took candidates who had spent time in the field. 

"She'll be posted somewhere to get her experience and if she's not killed in action, she will go to Coruscant and enter the training centre."

"It seems wrong somehow. No childhood."

"But what a great experience fighting for the glory of the Empire."

Lieutenant Bracxias supposed it was and left. Being a woman in the New Order did not give rise to a glorious career.

Lieutenant Cullen Page pulled his Imperial Uniform down a little and checked his appearance in the mirror. Changing hair and eye colour had subtly altered his appearance and now, dressed in Imperial grey, he decided he would do just fine. He only hoped he wasn't well remembered from his own time there.

He pulled the Command rank strips and attached them to his chest. Flicking a switch on the com unit, he sent through a message to the Academy office. He would be a visiting dignitary come to stay for a few days. Hopefully he would have time to see the person he was after. Something told him there was far more to her than met the eye.

Franjeer stood stiffly to attention in the entrance hall waiting for some Commander or other. He'd just spent a humiliating afternoon in art appreciation class and his face was still burning at the feeling of utter helplessness he'd felt. Maija had been unable to help him like she normally did because she'd had to spend time in the simulators to hone her flying skills. He guessed they were going to off load her soon and that would be why she was running round the campus like a panicked womp-rat or whatever the rodents from her home planet were called.

"Chin up, Nerano," her light voice teased as she ran past him.

"Darklighter," he called and she stopped and turned. "I need help or they'll fail me. I'll be cannon fodder. I want to be an officer."

Maija's eyes turned hard and a strange expression crossed her face. "Do you, do you really?"

He nodded and her face cleared.

"Okay, I'll see you later. Why are you here anyway?" You don't normally hang around the hall."

"My turn for escort duty."

"Who is it this time?"

"I think this is him now."

Maija turned to look and stopped. The man wandered down the hall, but Maija saw through the layers. "Imperial Intelligence," she whispered.

"Nonsense." He double checked. "Are you sure?"

"I'm pretty sure."

"Why do you think that?"

"He's got the kind of face you would forget. A useful trait to have. I'd better go."

Cullen noticed the small figure dart out of sight, but left it for the moment. Things had worked out perfectly. The real Tonan Cram was safely in a stasis chamber on Rylnat III. If he wasn't mistaken the first person he'd seen on entering the facility was the person he was looking for.

"I am Commander Tonan Cram," he announced in his best imitation of an Imperial at a parade ground voice.

"Cadet Nerano, at your service, Sir," the young man responded instantly."I am to escort you to your quarters, then give you a tour of the facility."

"There is no need of the tour. I did attend this establishment myself, you know." Page let his words drawl in exactly the same way the real Commander Cram would. "Show me where I am to sleep then bring me to Ryyklas. After that I'll have a wander round on my own. It's good to visit old haunts."

"But, Sir!"

"You were told to escort me. Do so and then you may go. I'll clear it with your Commander. Don't you have to spend time in a flight simulator or something?"

Franjeer grinned boyishly. "I'm not too bad at that, Sir. It will be the Art History classes. It's also a pity they don't do basic diplomacy for beginners. I could do with that. But I'm failing at the level three course." He sighed. "One of my classmates is helping me with these."

"And what do you help him with?"

"It's a her and she needs help with her fitness regime. I train her to cope with the physical demands. She's very young, Sir, and not fully grown I think."

"A worthwhile exchange of ideas, Cadet. I'm impressed. Most resourceful and between you and I, Cadet, I didn't like art appreciation classes either. But as an officer, you must have knowledge of all things. You'll find art appreciation isn't high on the list." He lowered his voice in a man to man fashion. "But the ladies like it."

Page exited the Commander's office, his lip unconsciously curling into a sneer. Ryyklas was no fool, but he was arrogant. He was to interview cadets for possible postings in the Imperial navy. There was only one person he was interested in, but you never know.

"I'll escort you to your quarters, Sir." Nerano remarked pleasantly. "A meal has been prepared for you and delivered there. The Commander completely understands your fatigue."

"Where are your quarters Cadet?"

"Third hostel, Sir."

"Aah, the one before mine. I'll say goodnight."

"Yes Sir."

Nerano smiled and entered the building. Page watched him depart. His target would be in there with any luck. He had had an interesting time with Commander Ryyklas. The man was sharp, but Page was better and he knew it. Pleading tiredness after a long journey he retired to the quarters he'd been given and pulled out a small communicating device. Linking it to the console in his room, he started pulling files on female cadets, younger than the norm, possibly with parents on Alderaan.

He sat back in satisfaction. "Easy."

The following day Maija was working on breaking a rebel code she'd been set. It was an old one and was now no longer in use, but it was thought that practising on the old codes gave you an idea of how the criminal mind must work.

__

'The white bird bids you fly'.

Maija blinked and checked her screen again. The words were there. They sat on her holo screen. They had nothing at all to do with what she'd been working on.

__

'I cannot fly, my wings have been clipped.'

Maija tapped the words in quickly keeping an eye open for any of her tutors. The truth was they didn't know what to do with her so they assigned her old exercises to complete, working from real codes. It wouldn't be long before they had her on the real stuff. However, this was like no code she'd ever experienced.

__

'There will be a place to land when the summer comes.'

Maija swallowed her little sob of shock. That had been one of the phrases her mother had used. But her mother was dead. There was no way the Force could lie to her. She tried to stretch out, to see what she could sense, but it remained closed to her. There was nothing. The words vanished and Maija was left tracing the aurebesh with her fingertips.

__

'When the summer comes,'

The phrase scanned again but this time in Bocce, a language uncommon even on Tatooine these days. Once it had been used but less and less now. This was not a training exercise. Someone was trying to contact her and in ways that no one would know. Who knew Bocce these days?

Mara excused herself from the tutorial and headed out towards the main complex.

"Cadet Darklighter!"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Commander Tonen Cram is interviewing today. If you are free now go to room seven."

"Yes, Sir." Maija saluted smartly and marched away, her back ramrod stiff. She was halfway down the corridor before her mind could wonder why.

The door com chimed. "Cadet Darklighter to see Commander Cram."

"Enter."

The door slid aside and Maija walked carefully inside. What she didn't expect to see was the Imperial Intel man perched on a chair, running a detector along the walls of the room. 

"Come in, sit down." He waved the detector at her body.

"What are you doing?" she asked torn between amusement and outrage. "Sir."

"Checking for listening devices." He looked up and grinned.

Maija realised he was younger than she had at first thought. Something wasn't right about him and then it clicked. Imperial Intel men didn't grin at you.

"You're not Tonan Cram, are you?"

"Now what a thing to suggest, Cadet. For the purposes of this visit, I am Tonan Cram. Who else could I be?"

"But…" She shook her head. "There are no devices in this room. If you'd gone into eight, now that would be different."

"Why?"

"I put them there myself last week as a training exercise. I make it a policy never to answer questions in a room I've bugged myself."

The man snorted - a sense of humour - this was even better. "Your profile said you were quiet."

"My profile!"

"I read the profiles of all the cadets I'm interviewing today. Most of them deadly dull. Yours on the other hand is interesting

Commander Cram got off the chair and placed his military issue booted feet on the floor. "Who do you think I am?" He shifted aside a wooden packing crate and waved a sensor device at the bookshelves.

"Imperial Intelligence?"

Page choked a little in surprise. She was sharp, this one - very sharp. "Wrong."

"Then I don't know, Sir." It struck Maija that she was bordering on the insubordinate, but there was just something about the way he was quizzing her. "You've the look of an Intel op. You could blend into any situation easily. But I've nothing to tell." Her voice was cold, untouched by emotion. The almost humour had disappeared from her voice.

"Oh I don't know. I think you do."

Maija narrowed her eyes. This man couldn't know anything. He was bluffing she would just have to play the game back.

"I'm sorry, sir. I've been training here for several years. I have little experience."

"You've dealt with Intel people before?"

"No, not that I know of."

Page couldn't help but be impressed. She was exactly what they were looking for. It was time he applied a little more pressure. "Yes I _am_ involved in Intel, but not Imperial." He stared very hard at her, grey eyes intent. "I know who you are."

Maija went still, her dark eyes blank. "What do you mean?"

Page narrowed keen eyes. Any one else might have missed the tiny flicker of shock. Not a lot fazed this one. He found the idea oddly unsettling in one so young. He trusted his instinct and made a decision. "Mon Mothma got to safety thanks to you."

There was a silence before Maija croaked carefully. "She did?"

Cram nodded.

"This is a good thing?"

"Yes, it's a very good thing."

"Who's Mon Mothma?"

Page grinned again. A little late with the save, but she was young yet. In time she would learn. "Look Maija - can I call you that? – I'm with the Rebel Alliance Intelligence. My name is Cullen Page and I'm a lieutenant in General Airen Cracken's Intelligence division." 

Maija gaped at him, her mouth hanging open in amazement. But there was no doubt on her face - she believed him. He paused and gave her a compassionate glance. "I was sorry to hear about your parents. They were good people."

"You knew them?"

"Not well, but I met them once or twice on Alderaan. They also worked for General Cracken from time to time. You're very like your Mother. She was beautiful."

"I resemble her, yes, but I will never achieve her talent or her beauty. She was special."

"She was, but you are too. Mon Mothma doesn't know your name, but will attest to your abilities. Because of you, she is alive." He smiled at the memory he had of his meeting with the Chandrilan woman. "Commander Ryyklas tells me that you will graduate early. How early?" 

"I'll be sixteen next month."

Cullen Page blinked in shock. Mon Mothma said a child had helped her. Luke Skywalker was only a boy at eighteen himself, but this girl was even younger. He shifted with momentary disquiet. She was too young, far too young, but the weariness of a seasoned campaigner shadowed dark eyes. What was it about this war that brought the young into it so early? Too early, in his opinion, but with the people they loved killed, they had to channel energy somewhere. He had to smile at himself. '_Like I'm a grandfather compared to them?'_ Page was only twenty-four.

"You shouldn't be here. You should be at home with your family."

"You forget, sir," she drew herself stiffly to attention. "The Empire has killed most of my family. There are very few of them left."

"I'm sorry." Cullen's eyes turned bleak. They had all lost friends or family in this conflict and the young woman in front of him was barely hanging on to her composure. Her wounds were still too fresh and raw.

"I'm due to leave and I've sat all the exams I need. I still have to work on my physical strength, but it has improved a lot recently. I grew three inches last summer. I can fly most types of combat craft. I know how to encrypt and decrypt. I have a working knowledge of galactic customs. I hope to head into the diplomatic service. If there is ever a time when this conflict ends I want to be able to do some good." She wasn't going to blab about her Jedi background. She had no Jedi background. Her grandfather had deliberately had very little to do with her because he would endanger the whole family.

At first Maija had thought that the strange man had known everything about her, but then he'd said that he'd known about Mon Mothma's escape. If the Empire ever found out about her part in it, that would be enough. But the rest of her background had to remain secret. Only her aunt and uncle knew and that was the way it had to remain.

"Why are you here? Not to inform me on the current health of Rebel Alliance leaders." She raised a calculating eyebrow.

"I'm here because of you."

"Because of me?"

"How would you like to spy for the Alliance?"

"Are you mad?" She subsided onto the upturned packing crate Cullen had so carelessly kicked aside. "Do you always recruit people for the Rebellion in the middle of an Imperial military training establishment?"

Page looked grim. "If I have to."

"You don't. I was recruited a long time ago."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 ****

Chapter 2

Imperial Centre, Triadon, Mid Rim

Maija walked quickly down the corridor of the Imperial Headquarters on Triadon, anxious to finish her shift. This was an industrialised world, grey and dreary. One couldn't go outside without a breath mask in place owing to the high level of pollutants in the atmosphere. The planet was being sucked dry of all its natural resources by an Empire who cared nothing for the planet or its people. Once they had squeezed every drop of life, they would leave and the planet and the people would die. Triadon was one of the biggest producers of durasteel in the galaxy and, therefore, vitally important to the success of the Imperial War Machine.

Squashing an uncomfortable feeling of pity for the unfortunate human and alien natives who mined the raw materials, Maija entered the turbolift. "Floor six," she muttered and slumped wearily against its walls as it made a rapid ascent. The doors swished open and she left, striding along the brightly lit corridors to find her quarters. She couldn't help the Triadii people by going on a personal crusade, much as she wanted to free them all from the degrading conditions in which they slaved for the right to remain alive. She had other things to think about. She would help them but in a different way. A small grim smile flickered across her normally expressionless face. Food rations at one of the biggest factories would be mysteriously doubled tonight because of a small computer glitch.

The walls of the Imperial complex on Triadon were grey; the employees were grey. The people were colourless and drably tired of a harsh existence. How she hated this place, this job. Nonetheless, she had no choice. She'd only been here for six months - the people who lived and worked here had a life sentence. What was even worse - their world was dying because of the Empire. How long would that sentence be?

She had been employed as a Junior Assistant in the Triadon administrative office. Nearly three years had passed since she'd been recruited to spy for the Alliance. She'd not been in a position to be much help, but she'd sent one or two snippets their way when she could - the occasional computer code and sliced programme. However, something was happening out here. She could almost feel it. She'd tried to stretch out with her feelings just like her father had once told her to but she'd felt nothing. Maija didn't want the force. It hadn't done her or her family any good. Perhaps this strange gift she'd been either blessed or cursed with had gone from her. But deep down she knew it was still there, ready to torment her senses and haunt her dreams - biding its time.

**********************

After graduating from the Academy she'd spent the first six months setting up the computer systems of the greatest Imperial ship ever to be built. Rumour had it Darth Vader himself would be in command. It was to be _his_ ship.

Maija never forgot her first jaw dropping view of the '_Executor'_ as her transport shuttle had glided slowly into one of the many docking bays. This was no ordinary ship; this was a _Super _Star Destroyer. It hung next to Fondor's immense orbital star dock, its pointed prow stabbing dagger-like into the blackness of space. Her primary emotion was one of utter dread and her second… How could the Rebellion ever compete with this?

Maija had kept her head down and worked, avoiding attracting attention. She felt lost in the battle cruiser - lost and emotionally cold. She felt nothing and sensed nothing. This was probably for the best. The worst thing that could happen to her was discovery by Lord Vader. He was a Sith and a powerful Force user. If her presence was ever pinpointed, she would be dead and she knew it. But perhaps being one in a crew of nearly forty thousand might help although if a Sith Lord wanted you and you were that close - she didn't hold out much hope.

***********************************

"Officer! Prepare holo equipment to record a message."

"Yes, Admiral Griff," Maija murmured meekly and set the holo recording equipment ready for use. Maija gave the Admiral a surreptitious glance from the corner of her eye. He was a cold man and, she sensed, a ruthlessly ambitious one. Why was he setting up the equipment for use in his office when there was a more secure and better-equipped com centre just along the hall?

Maija wondered how much was known about this super ship. If she could just access the message, discovering its contents, then she might be able to learn some information vital to the rebellion. Admiral Griff was up to something. He'd been having meetings with the Dark Lord and with the other Admirals. Maija had discovered that much but not why. The wily Admiral Griff was not one to do things without a reason, usually resulting in his own advancement.

"You may leave, Lieutenant." His voice was curt and Maija had no choice but to do what he asked. Still, there was something very strange about all of this.

Later that night after the Admiral had retired to his quarters, Maija returned to the office and broke into his files, but found nothing of value - only notification of another meeting arranged with the Admirals based on Fondor. He was clever and was covering his tracks well. Whatever he was up to, something stank of treachery. Maija pushed her cap further back on her head with frustration. There was nothing here. Time to go back to what she was supposed to be doing - programming a glitch deep into the systems. It needed to be one that wouldn't be found for a while, maybe even years. Still, it might save some of her people at some point.

Maija firmed her lips and switched off the Admiral's desk lamp. Time to get of here - she'd been here long enough. After all the care she'd taken over the years it wouldn't do to be caught now. Suddenly a shadow appeared at the door. "Sithspit!" she whispered and after a moment of frozen panic, she forced her heavy legs into hiding behind a grey sofa in the corner of the office. If he put all the lights on, she would be seen. Maija closed her eyes and prayed to whatever deity was listening. She could hardly hear what he was saying for the thumping of her heart.

"Code blue. Operation loyalty."

Maija craned her neck to see if the holo viewer was showing the recipient of the message, but all she could hear was a vague, low, menacing rumble that sent chills through her body.

"Rebel spy on board?" 

"Yes, the spy is in place," Griff answered.

Had she really heard that? The words came to her from the sinister voice. Maija froze in her hiding place. She'd been found out. She could hardly hear the next part of the conversation for the dread in her mind and the deafening pounding of her heart.

"They've sent a boy." Griff's tone was dismissive. "This should be all too easy."

__

'A boy!' Maija frowned. The Rebels had sent a _boy_?

"All too easy? Never assume anything is easy when the rebels are involved. Fanaticism for a doomed cause is a powerful incentive."

"Of course, my Lord."

Maija gulped back a strangled cry. _'Vader!' _This was some scheme between Griff and Darth Vader. She slumped back against the wall and held her breath, silently willing her panic to go away until she finally heard Admiral Griff leave his office. She waited a further quarter of an hour, her pulse still running too quickly and then slipped silently to the relative safety of her tiny room. Whoever the _'boy_' was, he was walking into a trap.

Two days later she saw him. It took a while but the face, a face from a past life in the place that still held the title of '_home_' in her heart, was eerily familiar. She'd been monitoring screens in the command centre when a detail of the civilian workforce crossed in front of a holocam. A forgotten face from her brief childhood. It was the Skywalker boy and a couple of droids. So he was still alive - she'd known it all along. He'd grown a bit, but his eyes were still as blue under untidy, overlong hair. She watched as the R2 unit plugged himself into a computer socket and things became all too clear. The Dark Lord and the Admiral were setting a trap for a rebel spy and other enemies closer to home. The young man who'd been her cousin Biggs' greatest friend was spying for the Rebellion. Skywalker seemed ill at ease in his role - all too obvious to those who were looking out for such as he. Yet he was allowed to go about his work with a greater freedom than was normally possible for a worker in his situation. It screamed _trap_. It was a trap - surely he knew it. Maybe she could send some schematics of the ship to the R2 droid and a warning. Quickly she tapped in the relevant commands and watched as the droid's head whirled in surprise. He'd got more information than he'd bargained for. She could do nothing more for the present.

Maija had learned later that Darth Vader and Admiral Griff had been weeding out so called traitors in the Imperial High command. Some of the other admirals had escaped, but more importantly, so had the boy. Her lip curled disdainfully. Darth Vader was minding his own career. Skywalker _had_ escaped and made it off Fondor with the relevant information. She hoped he got to where he was heading. She could do nothing more for him. If he survived perhaps one day they might meet again.

*************************************************

Maija pulled her uniform from her aching body and wandered tiredly into the fresher. The water beat down on her throbbing head, soothing her tired muscles. Why she was rehashing her life tonight she had no idea, but the memories kept coming.

Once she'd finished her six months on the ship she found herself assigned to the diplomatic training school on Coruscant. Maija transformed herself into the perfect assistant - discreet, reliable and unobtrusive. She'd sat in the front of a speeder car while her boss tried to seduce a lady friend. Sat in on meetings and they hadn't realised she was there. Heard more treason talked over by the petty Moffs and beaurocrats living safe and smug on the Core World than a Wookiee had hairs on his body. Coruscant was the jewel of the Empire, but it was cracked and flawed. Whereas, out on the rim, the cracks had split wide open allowing the rebel Alliance to emerge from within.

These skills would be useful for the Rebel Alliance she hoped one day to join for real. She also spent time in the gym increasing her fitness and time in the cockpit of various craft honing her flying skills. When the time came to move, she had to be ready. She could not be complacent. If she was caught tapping into classified material or it was ever discovered how many codes had gone to the rebellion there would be no leniency for such traitorous acts.

When her first proper posting had materialised, Maija had been a little disappointed. What on earth was she to do on Triadon? She'd hoped for somewhere she might have been able to really damage the Empire. But a mid rim Imperial durasteel producing colony!

She wandered from the diplomatic centre and had sat in the Imperial gardens watching as other humans laughed and joked. There were no non-humans in view. None of them would dare show their faces in this sector of the city. Moving into a deserted part of the gardens she subsided onto a wooden bench. Drawing her knees up to her chest Maija rested her chin on them. There was no choice - she had to go unless she defected to the Rebellion now. But what good would that do? She couldn't very well spy for them against the Empire if she were no longer working for the Empire.

Before Yavin the Rebels had been viewed as annoying but unorganised and easily squashed - seen as no more threat than a morrt to a gamorrean. Now it was a completely different story. These victories had stung the Emperor's pride and viciously he sought to crush any opposition to his rule. 

"May I join you?"

Maija peered up, but the sun was at the wrong angle and the man's facial features were indistinct.

"What?" Her dark eyes asked in confusion.

He took a step forward, but she held up her hands as if to guard her own personal space.

"May I join you?" he repeated politely.

The man was dressed in the uniform of an Imperial commander. Medium build and height and as he moved, Maija could see he had a nondescript face with average features and grey eyes. She looked at him blankly for a second. Had she seen him before? She closed her eyes and located a memory - the face, even in its ordinariness was familiar, but it was over two years since she had seen it.

"Page?" she whispered in shock.

He grinned, his grey eyes warming making him recognisable. "Rumbled," he murmured good naturedly. He sat down next to her. "You have a good memory for faces, Lieutenant."

"No, it took me a minute or two." She closed her eyes again for a second and when they opened there was anger in them. "What in the name of a krayt dragon are you doing here? It's dangerous. There could be open air surveillance."

"So keep your voice down." He still smiled but a cold hard glint in his eyes told her that he was well aware of the risks. "Everything up to scratch?"

"You mean - have I passed all the exams and improved my fitness?"

He smiled inwardly at her abruptness. There was no nonsense about this young lady. Straight to the target like a true blaster bolt. "Yes. If you are going to move up in the imperial regime, your importance to us will increase and you need to be at the peak of your efficiency. There is no room for slovenliness here. It could mean your own destruction and we need you."

"I know." 

The look the two shared was grim. Page wondered about her. _'How much did she know?'_

"Things aren't good for us, are they?"

Page sighed. "No, they're not. We need everything and everyone we can get. Those codes you sent us helped quite a bit."

"A pity they change them every few days."

"Yes, but to be expected. Still for those few days we knew what they were. It saved many lives."

"I'm sorry I couldn't do it more often."

"It has to be random otherwise your identity would be compromised."

"Give me time and I'll do it again."

"Good, we appreciate it." He smoothed his hand over his jaw and Maija could suddenly see how tired he was. The pronounced cheekbones were thinner than they had been and there were tired circles around his eyes. She'd been right. Things were not going well for the Rebel Alliance. The Empire really had them on the rack. She had no choice after all.

"I've been given a posting."

Page's face revealed no expression but Maija sensed his mind working furiously. "Where?"

"Triadon."

Page leant back in the seat and tapped his chin. "Aah! Interesting."

"I don't know if it is."

"You sound unsure."

"I am. What would you say if I told you I wanted to defect now?"

"I would say you were welcome, of course…"

Maija frowned - she was getting vibes off the Intel man and not through the Force either. She hadn't felt anything through that channel of communication since her parents had died. "Why do I sense there's a big _'but'_ at the end of your sentence?"

"I always thought you were a smart youngster."

"Oh please!" Maija groaned. "Spare me."

"What about your posting?"

"Triadon," she recited dully. "Third moon of the planet Adon in the system of the same name. It's an industrial Durasteel producing colony. Linked to the Kuat shipyard facilities and therefore of vital strategic importance to the Imperial war machine."

Page rubbed his eyes tiredly. "The words you should be focusing on are ' _vital, strategic_ and _importance_.' Do you still want to defect?" He gave her a smile which almost reached his eyes. "Silly word if you ask me because you've worked for us since you were a baby. Still are in a lot of ways."

She flashed him a resentful glare. "Sometimes I feel very old."

"Sometimes we all do. Look Maija…."

"It's okay - I understand. At first I couldn't think what I could do on Triadon."

"But now you can?"

Maija nodded. "Yes. Now I can." She fixed him with an intense stare. "You need what I can do too much."

"Good. Because I always wanted to know more about Imperial Durasteel production facilities." The glint in the grey eyes hardened again.

"I'm not going to be producing it," she exclaimed hotly.

"'Course not. You're going to be aiding the garrison commander in his daily duties running the place. He has the unenviable task of protecting such a valuable commodity from theft or sabotage."

"Gravel maggot!!" Maija bit out, furious with him. "You knew all this already."

"Of course. Shouldn't you have expected that?" He held out his hands in supplication. "Guilty as charged, little Maija.

Maija gave a tiny reluctant smile, her small face lifting for a moment.

Page picked at a thread on his uniform before continuing. "We need to know the amount being produced, what it's for and where it goes once it's shipped out."

"So you want delays to production and the occasional shipment going astray."

"Not too afar astray."

"To the Rebel Alliance you mean?"

"That would be helpful." Page began to rise.

"Is there a rebel cell on Triadon?"

"Well…"

"You mean I'm it?"

"For the moment."

"Oh, for Sith's sake!"

Page's eyes narrowed. "Interesting terminology, Maija."

"It's just a phrase."

"Sure it is. Be careful."

"I'm always careful."

"I mean it." Surreptitiously, he passed her a data card. "Memorise this and then get rid of it. If you do get into trouble, these codes will get you to either an operative or a base. If things get too hot - get out. Don't pull too many heroics young lady."

"I'm eighteen - not eight. I'll be like a sandstorm in the desert."

"Is that supposed to reassure me?"

"You gave me the assignment. I know what to do."

"Fair enough…. Sandstorm." He gave her an unsmiling nod in farewell and quickly left wondering all the while if he was doing the right thing. She was so young and far too intense, but the Rebellion was full of people like that.

***************************************************

Maija pulled her warm green robe securely around her shoulders and grabbed a mug of hot chocolate. The taste was pleasant and soothed her troubled mind a little. Wandering thoughtfully through to her sleeping chamber, she considered her circumstances. She'd been here six months already and not done nearly enough. Perhaps it was time to crank up the heat a little. She'd been patient for too long. Picking up her data reader, she slid a data card into the slot and perused the contents. The reports she read made her frown. She'd got these from the infonet and from classified Imperial sources. Things didn't look good for the Rebel Alliance. The war had deteriorated into a nasty hit and run kind of stalemate. That was as long as the Rebellion could keep running ahead of the Imperial search teams. They were only barely moving ahead - barely. So many had died.

Maija called up another document and stared at the defiant beautiful face of Leia Organa as it appeared before her. _'Empire's most Wanted.' _Maija shook her head in admiration. What the woman had gone through was unimaginable and she was still fighting. Next on the list was the smuggler Solo. Attractive devil-may-care risk taker but a damn good pilot. He'd been living on his charm and wits for many a long year but he'd stayed with the Rebellion for longer than he'd stayed with anything even though there was an enormous price on his head. Solo had even eluded the bounty hunters. What made Solo stay, Maija couldn't be sure but it was likely either his link to the Princess, his Wookiee co-pilot or Luke Skywalker.

Skywalker was the ultimate Rebel hero and the rewards for his capture were for more wealth than she could imagine. He was just a boy from Tatooine as she was. Why she should dream of his blue eyes trying to tell her something important was more than she could fathom.


	3. Chapter 3

Imperial Garrison - Triadon ****

Imperial Garrison - Triadon

The steady battering of the rain against the transparisteel window acted like a spur to Maija's edginess. She'd had a funny feeling all day, but perhaps it was because of the weather. The wind always seemed alien to her here. She watched the droplets race themselves across the viewport in an erratic game, their directions chosen for them by the wind. Maija rested her hand lightly on the transparent surface and watched as her fingerprints appeared. It wasn't home. A stray memory of a hot clear day round Bestine Township on Tatooine flitted easily into her mind. Random images of her mother running across the desert sands being chased by her father and a very small Maija sinking to her knees against a sand dune.

__

"Maija!" her father's voice echoed loud in her mind.

__

"Make shapes in the sand." Her parents had looked at each other_. "No sweetheart - not like that." _The young Maija's first impulse had been to stretch out a chubby finger and draw_. "Do it by thinking about it." _Her father had instructed. She didn't mind - it was a good game.

__

"Okay." She'd answered, sticking her tongue between her teeth in steady concentration_. "I can do a flower." _She'd never seen a real flower until she'd moved from Tatooine. Flowers were only for the wealthy. The sand had risen and for an instant the childish vision of a flower hovered in the air before vanishing and the grains of golden sand dropped to the desert floor.

__

"Good girl," her mother approved_. "That was longer than last time."_

Maija beamed happily into her father's face. With a chuckle he ruffled her untidy windblown hair, but the look he sent his wife above his child's head, was worried.

__

"Petros, we have to see Obi Wan."

"He won't be happy. He doesn't know I'm doing this. I have no Force talent."

"He will know."

"I suppose so."

"Will grandfather be angry?"

"No, little jawa. No one could ever be angry with you." He picked his daughter up and swung her onto his shoulders as they returned to their speeder._ "She has to be able to protect herself."_

"Against what?" Jerna asked_._

"I don't know. My father is a fugitive, hiding from I'm not sure what." He lifted Maija down and placed her in the back of the speeder.

__

"Or whom." Jerna's voice was knowing.

"Or whom."

"Why is grandfather hiding?" Maija piped up from the back.

__

"He likes the quiet, but we can't mention your Grandfather and he's not hiding. Jerna - now is not the time…"

There had never been time after that. She knew not to mention the old man at all and when her parents died she was old enough to understand.

********************************************************

"Lieutenant!"

Commander Fariu's voice echoed through the com.

"Yes, sir."

"Any sign of the Governor?"

"Not yet, sir. I'll let you know as soon as he arrives."

Maija glanced longingly at the uninspiring view again before returning to the paperwork. Columns of figures blurred in front of her eyes. It didn't matter how many times she read them. They all added up to one thing. The industrial output from the Triadon factories was well down. Bad news for Commander Fariu and the Empire or very good news for the Rebel Alliance - take your pick. She stifled a small, satisfied smile. It was as it should be, but now was not the time to get careless. Labour shortages, power failures, equipment malfunctions - you name it, Maija had arranged for it to happen. _'I know the rules_,' she told herself, '_but I need to do more. This is not enough. Triadon is a major producer of durasteel but I need to make it really hurt and not get caught.'_

That was going to be her problem. How to turn up the heat without the finger of suspicion pointing in her direction. This waiting patiently wasn't enough - things had to get done _yesterday_.

Her com beeped.

"The Governor has arrived, Lieutenant."

"Thank you." Maija pressed a button on her console. "Send him up."

Maija slipped her hand under her desk and brought out a small cylinder. Unscrewing the lid carefully she placed two small items on her desk. It was a good job the holocamms in the office had failed weeks ago - with a little encouragement. The recording rod was no thicker than the spines on a Corellian needle rat and carefully she pushed it up the sleeve of her uniform. The other item she held in her closed fist. Pressing the chime on the connecting door, she waited for her summons.

"Enter." 

"Commander Fariu, sir - Governor Markieer has arrived."

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

The Commander was a tall thin and miserable individual. He couldn't work out what had gone so wrong with the Imperial operation on Triadon, but he was determined to find out. He glanced sourly at his assistant. She was one of several and they changed at various times during the week. They were all efficient and anonymous. It didn't help him if he was demoted and no doubt they'd all be demoted with him if he was unlucky enough.

"Are you ready for your transfer to a backwater world?"

"Sir?" Maija looked a little startled. "I don't understand."

"If we cannot find the source of these problems we will all suffer. To work for the best you must be the best and we have not performed well. Things are bad, Lieutenant. Production is down and we are the ones that will be punished." He stood up and walked to the viewport.

Maija said nothing and ducked her head in a manner that made her commanding officer think that she was worried about her future. In reality Maija hid her expression because in her opinion the ones that were suffering were mining the ore which made the durasteel, or working in the hellish conditions of their factories.

"But we've done our best, sir." Maija opened her fingers and the object she had held there for safety flew upward and attached itself unnoticed to the ceiling. The _fly-eye_ had its limitations but unless there were sensor jammers in the room, which there was not, she should get a clear picture. Unfortunately the _fly-eye_ wasn't big enough to carry data to make it record sound as well, so the recording rod slipped from her sleeve and rested innocuously in a vase of fake flowers. They were supposed to give the Commander's room something of a lift, but these flowers had long past their best and like everything else on Triadon stood as silent grey spectators to everything that occurred within these walls.

"When the Governor arrives, I don't want to be disturbed. I'll alert you if anything is required."

"Of course, sir," Maija muttered dutifully. His pathetic air of doom was almost comical. The Governor had the final word on most issues including who was in overall charge of the Imperial Garrison. He held the Imperial power in his hands on Triadon. Moving through to her desk she picked up what looked like a perfectly ordinary data card reader and slotted a card into it. Immediately a picture appeared. Maija smiled to herself. She set the machine to record and hid it in her desk drawer. 

The two tone chime of the approaching turbolift echoed down the corridor and Maija stood to attention as the Governor's party exited the lift and marched in perfect formation along the corridor. 

"If you would come this way, Governor," Maija gave a smart salute and ushered the Governor into the commander's office. He gave her a thin-lipped smile which did nothing to lighten his sharp almost skeletal features.

"You have a bioscan unit installed in the doorway of the outer office?" Markieer ran his eyes thoughtfully over the equipment.

"It's a standard feature now in all Imperial facilities, sir. Is there a problem?"

"No - I will want to take a look at the readings later on."

"Yes, sir." Maija gave Fariu a puzzled glance, but he just shrugged before adding. "I believe it was to neutralise any threat from non-humans who might be trying to infiltrate the Empire."

"Good." Markieer turned to his two escorts. "Wait outside."

With a sharp salute the two men retreated to wait outside Maija's domain. The door to the Commander's office slid shut and Maija was left on her own as much as she could be with two guards outside her office.

Returning to her figures she slipped a card into a real data reader this time and connected it to the larger screen in front of her. The figures scrolled over and over and engrossed she was unaware of anything but what was in front of her until a long finger tapped her on the nose. The shorter of the Governor's two escorts stood leaning on her desk - his grey eyes intently watching her. Maija looked at the bioscan indicators and found they were blank.

"Page!" she mouthed in shock.

"Meet me later. We need to talk."

"Hey, Chaptor!" the other escort called carefully. "We're supposed to stay out here."

Maija's eyebrows rose. "Chaptor?"

"It's my name."

"Ohh!" she drawled. "Not paragraph or sentence?"

"Cute." He said and shuffled to sit on the desk.

"There's a lady in here." Page called back easily.

"Is that all you think about?"

"No, I think about Imperial glory too. That way I know I survive to meet the ladies."

Maija shook her head, marvelling at Page's chameleon like ability to adapt himself to any situation. _'I should ask him for lessons._' It was uncanny.

"Don't get excited, Nerano. They could be in there for hours yet."

"Nerano?" Maija echoed questioningly. "Franjeer?"

The tall man clad in an imperial lieutenant's uniform like Maija and Page, sidled cautiously into the office at the mention of his name. For a moment he gazed at the slim female until recognition struck.

"Little Darklighter?"

"Less of the little please." A quick sideways glance at Page showed he was none the wiser about this meeting and obviously Nerano hadn't connected 'Chaptor' with the visit of Tonan Cram all those years ago. Franjeer was a nice man, much too nice to be an Imperial soldier, but that was what he had wanted and he'd worked to achieve it too. It had been nearly three years since they'd last seen each other, but it was her former friend all right. Time hadn't changed him much. He was still as huge and his jaw was still as square.

"You two know each other?" Page questioned casually. 

"Lieutenant Nerano and I were at the Raithal Academy together."

"I went to Carida, but Raithal is one of the hardest ones to get into."

"Darklighter here, helped me with those awful art classes."

"He was never going to be a connoisseur." Maija added, "But he worked really hard."

"So you knew this lovely lady already and you didn't tell me."

"I didn't know," Nerano protested studying Maija. Time had changed her. She was still poised and the air of solitary detachment she held around herself remained. Still slender with the pale face and dark eyes. Not pretty exactly, but she had something. "You're taller," he blurted out.

"So I should hope," she returned briskly.

"I made it." He offered seriously.

"So I see." Her eyes hardened, but he must have been mistaken about the coldness in her steady stare. It was nothing, merely a trick of the light.

"I'm going to help the Governor root out those rebels that are destroying the Imperial family. These terrorists don't realise what they're doing to so many innocent people."

Maija and Page shared a look that Nerano failed to see.

"Yeah," Page drawled slowly. "These rebels are everywhere."

Maija smothered her chuckle at its source. It wasn't really funny.

************************************************************

"Goodnight, sir," Maija murmured softly as the Commander left the office. The Governor had gone several hours previously and Fariu had been exceedingly withdrawn ever since. It was possible he might tell her, but with Fariu you had to wait and see what his mood was. It didn't matter in any case, she would find out first. She wasn't too keen on surprises. Most of them in her view were unpleasant.

First a quick twitch of the holocamms in Fariu's office and she was able to retrieve the _fly-eye_. With a whisper of its metallic wings it settled on its miniature landing pad held in her outstretched palm. Collecting the recording rod from the vase of fake flowers she slipped it into the cylinder along with the _fly-eye_ and attached it to the inside of her Imperially issued utility belt, which she'd modified a little. Together these little gadgets would give her some clues to what the governor would be looking out for. She doubted Markieer had a personality that could be described as pleasant.

The office door slid shut behind her and she turned to make her own exit when she came face to face with the man standing inches from her.

"Busy, Lieutenant?" the close proximity of the figure and the voice so loud in the quiet confines of her office made her gasp.

"Page!" Maija hissed angrily between clenched teeth. "If I'd been armed…"

"I'd have been singed. I know."

"Why are you here? What do you want me to do? If it's anything big it will be difficult. We're being monitored very closely just now. Too many things have been going wrong here."

"Questions, questions." He perched on the edge of her desk. "Is it safe to talk here?"

"I hope so, or we'd both be in a holding cell in the detention centre this very minute. I hope you're not normally so careless." Maija's tone was disapproving and Page checked the retort that sprang to his lips. The child was right. He had assumed she would have dealt with most of the hardware in her working environment. It was a mistake he could not afford to repeat.

"Remember what I told you once, many years ago?"

"Remind me."

"I never answer questions in a room…."

"You've bugged yourself," he finished. "So this room is clean and next door?"

"It's okay for the moment, but I can't leave it that way. I've fixed the data stream from the holocamms to show the same picture. This is fine when the room is empty as it is now, but it can't remain that way."

"So what kind of things have been going wrong?"

"The usual - labour shortages, power cuts things going missing, wrong quantities being assembled for various orders. Big glitches in the computer systems…."

"So you've been busy."

"Not just me, sir. There was a rebel cell here after all."

"I know. I told them to get in touch with you."

"I've done what I can. I may have overdone it, but the conditions for the workers and the people here are appalling."

"That's why we must do what we can to lessen the Empire's grip on the galaxy. Some places have it even worse." Page rubbed his eyes and Maija noticed for the first time how thin and drawn he was. The air of good humour was just that - a cover.

"The sector governor arrived and the Commander has gone into a depression; he thinks he's going to get sent to another posting."

"Is that why you are alone just now?" Page asked curiously.

"No, there are usually two of us in this office, but my colleague came down with some kind of viral infection last week and is still in the infirmary. There are holocamms…"

Page twisted his head to look at them.

"But they're not working at the moment."

"You fixed them." He sounded definite.

"Me? Whatever gave you that idea? Besides - two steps down that hallway there is a permanently manned command centre with at least twenty people working there, even at this time of night. Why am I telling you this - you know how many troops are stationed here."

"Just checking up on your general knowledge."

"You're tired aren't you? How on Tatooine did you manage to end up as the Governor's escorts?"

"Luck and a lot of internal manoeuvring on the part of Alliance Intelligence."

"Cracken's good, isn't he?"

"Yes - he's one of the best. The Empire didn't know what they let loose upon them when they alienated the General."

"I've never met him, but I can see the results of his handiwork all around me, especially when I hack into some of the more secure reports. Things may not be good for the Rebellion just now, but our agents are still causing problems where and when they can."

"You'll meet him one day."

"I hope so. By the Force, I hope so."

Page paused at her words. She was a rebel agent but had never been with others of her kind. She'd been working from within the Empire, yet she talked as if she knew what the Force was. This was not a subject mentioned on Imperially held worlds. It was possible her parents had educated her about such things, but there could be more to it. Perhaps her background rated further investigation at some point, but not just now. Not when the Empire had them running from base to base. If they didn't find somewhere safe soon there might be no rebellion for Maija Darklighter to defect to.

Maija looked at him sympathetically. "Come on, sir. My shift is over. I'll buy you supper."

"Very kind, kid, but I need to see what you have on the internal working of this place. We need you to divert more raw materials our way."

"I thought that might be the case." She handed over several data cards. "Current codes and once I've sorted it out I can give you a copy of the meeting between the Commander and the Governor."

"That would be good, but I have to leave in twenty-four hours. I have to meet an Alliance convoy…." He hesitated. "I can't tell you where."

"I understand. What I don't know they can't torture out of me, right?"

Page gave a heavy sigh. "Right. Can't you just give me what you have and I'll get Alliance techs to deal with it?"

"I suppose I could, but I would like to know what I have to deal with."

"Copy it." 

Maija dug into her desk drawer and pulled out a data card copier. With a careful look at her chrono, she slid the cards and the needle like recording rod into their correct slots.

"Is this new?" Page asked fingering the recording rod.

Maija nodded. "Brand new. I developed it myself only last month. It is so slim it can go anywhere - well nearly anywhere. I want to develop this into something smaller, but I can't get access to the parts."

"If you can get an accurate reading from something this slender and you think you can fine tune it further. I'll get you the parts."

Maija lifted her head and gave Page an intent look. "There are a couple of things you might want to know, unless the Intelligence service has ferreted this out already."

"Go on."

"There's a really big shipment going out in the next week, heading for the Kuat shipyards. The Executor is getting a big refit just now. It's been very busy of late. Lord Vader is stepping up his hunt for any Rebel activity, especially concerning _Skywalker_."

"Where did you learn this?" Page's voice sounded tense.

"Most of it on the infonet, but the part about Skywalker was in a secure report. He's using probe droids. Hundreds and hundreds of them - possibly thousands. Vader will search every system until he finds the boy and he wants him alive."

"I didn't want to know that, kid. Tell me I didn't." 

***********************************************************

Nerano had been watching them for a few moments. Maija was digging into her desk drawer while his colleague was sitting on the desk casually chatting. But their moves were furtive and their voices hushed. For two people who had only met today, they had an awful lot to talk about.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer - The characters and situations used in this story are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd ****

Disclaimer - The characters and situations used in this story are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd. I'm only borrowing them for my own enjoyment and no credits are being made from this.

****

Hidden Force - Chapter 4

Imperial Garrison - Triadon

Maija's face paled slowly. "Is it really so bad for us?" she questioned softly**,** already knowing the answer.

"We need that shipment. Even if you can get it to the right hyperspace vector for us or the wrong one for the Imps, then our boys can take it from there. We're desperate. Raw materials, weapons, equipment - anything. If we get that shipment it means that somewhere an Imperial project is being denied its supplies and therefore will be delayed. We gain the reserves and time. It could also mean lives, Maija - _lives._" The dark circles under Page's eyes seemed more pronounced, the air about him darker and more desperate.

Maija pulled open her desk drawer and drew out a small, flat container. "I've been working on this for a little while, but I haven't had the opportunity to test it."

Page quirked an eyebrow. "This is…?"

"It's a long range device. Kinda like a homing beacon, but it works on frequencies undetected by normal Imperial surveillance and scanning equipment."

"I don't think that's possible."

"It is if you have this at the other end. She pulled out another slim, flat case packed with tiny electronic circuits. "This was murder on my eyes. I didn't want to use a droid to do the work in case it was spy rigged. I had headaches for weeks."

"You're telling me that the Imperial scanners will not pick up a signal from this device?" Page's voice was sceptical.

"Not for a good few hours. By then the signal should have been transmitted and then any positional vectors changed. How far can you travel in a couple of hours once the jump is made to lightspeed?"

"Point taken." Page was impressed despite himself and the look he gave her was full of respect. "You'd have travelled far from the original contact point. It could work if you do it in a series of short jumps…"His voice softened thoughtfully as he considered the implications of using her creation.

"Look, it might not work. I admit it's risky, but if you want the information about the destination of the shipment of transparisteel and durasteel, that's the best I can do. I know it's due out soon, but not when or where. I've become a victim of my own success. The security is so tight here that it's almost impossible to find out anything."

Page smiled wearily. "And yet, I managed to get into a position of trust in a very short period of time."

"People don't like being stationed here - so they try to leave. Even loyal Imperial soldiers try to get a different posting. Pity the Triadii, who can't - forced to work down in the mines and in the factories. You're the third set of escorts I've seen accompanying the Governor in as many weeks. The funny thing is that the troops can see what's being done here and for the first time they feel a prick of their conscience. It's mainly humans who are providing the labour; they could dismiss it more easily if it was alien workers. I know that's wrong, but to your average stormtrooper an alien is a lower life form."

"You're right. Some of my best friends, worth ten of some humans, are different species. They have as much to offer as us and the right to live according to the ways of their own people. The Rebellion would fail totally without them and without people like you. Watch your back."

"I agree obtaining your position was easy but I don't think it's a trap. There _is_ unrest in the ranks and they're trying so hard to cover all the security bases, that there are cracks appearing." Unconsciously she stretched out with her feelings, searching vainly for a spark of awareness. "I can't sense anything."

Page's keen grey eyes sharpened.

Maija continued quietly. "I'll see what I can do. If I can get the transport to the wrong place, then I can signal you using this. Be aware**,** the convoys will be heavily guarded…" Maija's voice trailed off at the ironic look in the older man's eyes. She blushed suddenly. This man had seen more terrible things in the galaxy than she could imagine. He'd been in tighter situations too and here she was with the naivety of youth telling him his own job. "Sorry," she whispered.

"Hey, it's okay." His voice gentled. "Thank you for your concern and I know you will do what you can. All I can do is wait."

"And trust in the Force, " Maija whispered so softly that Page didn't catch her words.

---------------------------------------------------

"What are you doing?" 

The voice was cold, unusually so. Nerano stood framed by the bioscan unit, the massive bulk of his body dwarfing both Maija and Page, his hand hovering inches from his blaster

"Sith, Nerano!" Maija's voice emerged shakily. "You gave me a real fright there." She slipped the electronic devices into the pocket of her tunic**,** hoping that the large man didn't see her do it. Nerano had never been noted for his attention to detail, but he wasn't stupid.

Page rose slowly from his seated position on the desk, his hand trailing below Nerano's vision. Maija pulled the receiver from her pocket and slipped it into his open palm. With a shrug, Page pushed it up his sleeve. "I can never resist a pretty lady."

Maija tried to act as if she was embarrassed by his attentions and she wasn't entirely sure if she was successful. Nerano's square-jawed expression and stiff figure radiated suspicion.

"Please," she entreatied jerkily and opened and shut her desk drawer a few times in supposed mortification. "It's okay, Chaptor, he knows."

"He knows!" Page's voice rose in alarm.

Maija's dark eyes flashed him a warning. "He knows…." Her voice broke. "About my cousin."

"Your cousin! He knows!" His voice shot up. Page hoped she had an explanation because he hadn't a clue where she was heading with this one.

Nerano's brow furrowed. The pair in front of him were too comfortable with each other. Their heads had been close together, their voices hushed, as they conversed urgently with one another. Why had Chaptor returned to the Commander's office? What did he want with his former friend? There was more here than a bantha had cubs.

Maija held out her hand appeasingly. "He knew my cousin before he…." Her voice trailed off limply.

Nerano's eyes widened. "The cousin you told me about? Biggs."

"Yes," she cast her eyes down in sorrow. Truthfully, it still hurt her deeply but she would use whatever she had - even her own pain. "Whatever he did… whatever… I loved him."

Page put a gentle hand on her thin shoulder. "You don't have to…" All had suddenly become clear. Keep it simple and as near to the truth as you can - the first rules of spinning a tale. She was quick on her feet mentally - he liked that. "He was a fine pilot - one of the best."

Maija raised tragic features. "But I have to tell someone about him and I can't. I loved him and I still can't talk about him not here."

Page admired her skill. She was good. A little over the top, perhaps, though Nerano seemed to be buying it. But then it was the truth. She gave a frantic look around the office as if to check for anyone who might be listening.

"He's dead?" Nerano questioned.

"Died fighting for those accursed Rebels. What made such a good man turn?" Maija glanced out of the corner of her eye at the Alliance Intel man. "I told Nerano about Biggs many years ago. I can't grieve for him because it would cost me everything I have worked so hard for." 

Page coughed awkwardly. "I served briefly with Biggs before he ruined his career and made the move that ultimately killed him. If he'd stayed true to the Empire, he might still have been alive today. Darklighter is an unusual name in the galaxy. That's why I asked the Lieutenant here if she was possibly related to him."

"I can't believe he sacrificed everything," Maija added.

Nerano shook his head. "That's what makes the Rebels so dangerous. They don't consider themselves misguided."

Maija sighed. "I suppose they consider us the same way."

Page nodded. "I think they do and they are willing to go to any lengths."

Maija gave him a hard stare. "I've heard that." She let her gaze drift to where he'd pushed the electronic device up his sleeve.

__

'Please go**;** just get out of here. You have the data and the device. Get the hell off this place. I'll deal with things from this end.' But of course there was no way he could hear her thoughts. She leaned over her terminal and effectively hiding the viewscreen from sight**,** began to fiddle around with data cards and sheets of flimsi. A stack of cards fell off the desk with a muffled crash and Nerano dropped to his knees to pick them up. Maija quickly typed the words into her terminal. "Go - I'll deal with your disappearance. You've got leave - effective now." 

By the time Nerano had picked up the wildly scattered cards, the screen showed a list of everyday garrison stats.

"That looks interesting," he said, grinning.

Maija rolled her eyes a little. "Oh it is - riveting. Like watching an Imperial Moff work. Come on." She switched the screen off. "I've had enough and I'm hungry. Franjeer? Fancy a bite at the garrison canteen? We can do a bit of catching up. Chaptor, care to join us?"

Page smiled with the correct amount of polite regret. "No. I'm sorry but I must go and catch some sleep. I have an early shift tomorrow. But you two go ahead."

Maija hesitated and stared hard at Page. "You won't mention this to anyone?"

"Of course not. We all have things in our pasts we want to stay hidden."

"I don't," muttered Nerano**,** sensing undercurrents but not understanding them.

__

'Just go,' she thought. It was a pity she no longer had her link to the Force. This was perhaps the first time she'd regretted the loss. It had died with her family - maybe it was the link with the spilled blood of her loved ones. She hadn't sat down and thought about the fact that when her parents had been killed she'd lost her ability to touch the Force. The ache had dulled with time, but was never really gone. She retreated into her mind and all of a sudden she felt something. It wasn't much, a flash of awareness, a minute quiver of cognisance and then nothing. It was gone.

Page hesitated at the door as if he wanted to say something.

__

'Just go,' she sent to him. _'I'll make sure you're not tracked – well, not for a while.'_ Maija's shoulders slumped with the effort. It was no use. She was fooling herself. There was no way Page could hear her. She had delayed long enough. Nerano was glancing between them with a bewildered expression clouding his features. It was obvious that he was not totally convinced and all this standing around was achieving nothing.

Page frowned. He may have been dreaming, but he was convinced he'd just heard her voice inside his head and she hadn't opened her mouth. _'Just go….'_ she'd said. If he had heard her voice, then she was right and it was time he left. Forget waiting another twenty-three hours, he had the data and a hopeful promise of a misdirected cargo. He glanced at his chrono and affected a careless yawn.

Maija gave him a quick nod and began to gather her things. A small case, a couple of stray data pads and her cloak tossed carelessly over a hook in the corner of the sterile grey office.

"I'll _just go_, Nerano," Page murmured and watched carefully as Maija froze in the act of placing her cloak about her slim shoulders.

Had he echoed her words? Had he heard her after all?

"See you again," she threw the words nonchalantly in his direction.

"I hope so."

***********************************************

Cullen Page made his way carefully to his temporary quarters and threw his meagre belongings into his carryall. One thing about his job, you learned to travel light. He rolled up a couple of data cards and Maija's device inside a pair of socks and shoved them well down into his pack. There was no question in his mind that it would work and she would be able to explain his unexpected absence. He had definitely heard her voice in his head and if he returned to Alliance HQ in one piece, he would certainly delve deeper into her background.

He heaved his pack onto his strong shoulders and, merging in with the rest of the thousands of troops stationed on Triadon, vanished into the crowd waiting for transport to the spaceport. 

The spaceport was unusually confused. It seemed as if hundreds of people milled about aimlessly, tripping over abandoned belongings and even the odd sleeping passenger. 

"Typical!" a woman's voice grumbled. "Another power failure and the back-ups failed. I was supposed to leave last night and nothing got out."

"It's too bad," her companion agreed.

"Excuse me?" Page asked politely. "I couldn't help overhearing. There was another power failure?"

"Yes, nothing got out last night and all the transports are well behind. Only military personnel and supply vehicles. It might be another day before we can leave. I'm supposed to be meeting my husband on Esseles."

"This is unfortunate. I'm on leave and I only get ten days. This would have to happen. Thank you**,** ladies." He tipped them a salute and disappeared into the throng.

__

'Blast!' he thought to himself. '_I'll just have to get off another way.'_ He carefully headed towards the area where the supply ships were berthed. The usual motley collection of souped-up, top-of-the-range speed machines and old tramp freighters.

A man turned and cast a keen eye over the nondescript Imperial soldier and then his face lit up in a merry grin. "Well, well. Would you credit it?" He pulled out a comlink and spoke hurriedly into it before strolling towards the Imperial. "Hey buddy! Looking for a ship?"

Page swung around**,** his hand reaching automatically for the weapon he kept in a low-slung holster. The man held his hands up in a gesture of mock surrender. "Kinda nervous, Sir?"

Page's jaw hung open for a second. "Spuhr! Velten Spuhr. What the Vader are you doing here?"

"Refuelling and dropping the odd cargo. Checking ship movements. That sort of thing." 

Page started to laugh as he took in the other's cheerful soot-stained countenance. "You've just saved me some time." Spuhr was another of General Airen Cracken's Intel operatives. "I could use a lift." He raised his voice a little. "I've got some leave - need to head out system and catch a transport to Coruscant. Haven't seen my father in a long time." Page grimaced inwardly. That part was true. His father had probably disowned him years ago - might not even recognise what he'd become - a man with his own, better ideals. Not someone caught up in the selfishness and twisted evil that the Empire had become.

"I'll pay extra if it saves me having to wait till tomorrow for the regular transport. I didn't realise you were hauling supplies for the Empire out here."

"The Empire has done a lot for me. I do my bit to repay them." Spuhr's voice was genial but his eyes were cold. The cruelty and the evil of such a regime had hurt too many people. Spuhr was doing his bit all right. He was trying to get back at the Empire who had killed his wife and left his children motherless and effectively without a father. Spuhr, too, was on the wanted dockets for desertion and treason. He was beyond caring what he was wanted for. He had a job to do and like Cullen Page, he was good at it. "Sure**,** I can fit you in - no problem. I have a small shipment of durasteel to take back to Galactic City. An extra paying passenger will really make it worth my while. "

"Thanks."

They cleared the system with surprising ease and without too much waiting around either. The port authorities were in a desperate hurry to clear space.

"They're expecting some very big transport carriers shortly. Something's up."

Cullen sighed. "I know what it is, Velten, and I've left it in the hands of one of our planetside operatives."

"I didn't know we had operatives planetside."

"We do and it's 'operative'. She's managed to link with the local rebel cell, so she has some support but they are inexperienced and she is very young. Bright, but young; practically a child."

"We were all like that once, Cullen. I bet she doesn't feel young. She'll feel as old as her grandfathers were. I know I do."

Cullen agreed with a tired nod and followed his long-time colleague to the cramped bunk he'd been given. That was one of the reasons things were so wrong with the Imperial view of things. The young woman he'd just left with her cold, oddly detached air hadn't had a childhood. All she knew was the greyness of serving the Empire and the despair she'd experienced with the death of her family. Pulling off the Imperial tunic, he dressed himself in dark tunic and pants. "It's good to get out of that uniform. I seem to be wearing it more than I do my Alliance one."

"So what's the desperate hurry to clear the supply vessels and couriers?"

"The _Executor_ and other ships in the Imperial fleet are due to come in for extensive refits over the next few months. There is a big push to try and squeeze the Rebellion. We're short of everything and cannot compete in an all-out fight against an enemy with access to unlimited raw materials. I get the feeling something else is up, but I can't find out anything. Cracken have any ideas that you might be privy to?"

"Not that we know of."

"Anyway - the place is being cleared so the cargo ships can come in and load. Our operative means to thwart their plans in some way."

Spuhr pursed his lips in a soundless whistle of admiration. "I suppose you want to send a communication to the old man?"

"I don't think the General will appreciate the nickname, Velten old chap. But yes, I do."

"This is only the first of a series of short hyperspace jumps. Just to put anyone off our tail. We don't want anybody tracking this ship." Velten smirked.

"She's faster than she looks." Page ran an admiring eye over her specs.

"That's the general idea. Don't want to advertise what we are, do we?"

The two men shared a grin of comradeship before Page tugged a thick bantha-wool jumper over his head. "I wonder if General Cracken knows exactly where the _Executor_ is?" The words came out a little muffled as Page struggled to pull his head free of the jumper.

"Last I heard, she was out on the Rim trying to hunt Rebels. Or Luke Skywalker in particular."

"Where's Luke?" Cullen grabbed his belt and holster and started to reattach it, then ran his hand carelessly over his hair. Flat was about the only thing that could be said in its favour. The Imperial haircut had never suited him.

"He was on Hoth, last I heard. Keeping his head down and learning how to run an X-wing squadron."

"I heard they'd given him charge of one. 'Bout time too. He's made Lieutenant-Commander now. I never understood for the longest time why he refused the promotion earlier. Not until Cracken explained it. Luke, being Luke, wanted time to learn and it gave him a bit of time to come to terms with what happened in his life. Force knows we've all had it hard. How's Eris?"

Spuhr's eyes misted a little as Cullen mentioned his daughter. "Growing like a Wookiee and missing me."

Luke still has this…" he searched for a word. "Innocence. All he ever wanted to do was fly."

"Luke's a natural leader and an all-round nice guy. He's not cocky or stuck up, like some folk are. He thinks anyone could have blown up the Death Star and he was just the right guy at the right time."

"Right." Cullen rolled his eyes. He liked Luke - a bit of a dreamer, but he'd never seen anyone fly like the former farmboy. Luke flew as if his soul and his fighter were intertwined.

"Have you seen the Imperial wanted lists? Luke's at the top of their list. Blow up the Death Star and you become galaxy wide famous. I've never seen so much money offered for a capture - more than for anyone else in the entire Rebellion. They want him more than they want Mon Mothma or Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan."

Page paused in the act of putting his blaster back in its holster. "So it's become common knowledge that he was the one to blow the battleship moon." He looked up at Spuhr. "Did you know they want more for him alive than dead?"

Spuhr shivered. "I hope the boy can live with that."

"He has to, but it's a heavy burden for him to carry."

There was an awkward silence.

"Where you headed?" Spuhr asked.

"Darlyn Boda," Page murmured softly. "Imperial held, but badly run. Poor security. They don't care out there and it has the best underground of any Imp world. From there I can get transport to anywhere I'm needed to go - even Hoth if I have to, but I don't think Cracken wants me there. There are other things in the wind. What about you?"

"We head towards the Corellian system to pick up a couple of scientists. They worked for a ship building company. Didn't like when the Empire took their designs from them without paying. Well - when I say without paying, I mean they weren't too keen on working in a secured facility with their families held as hostage. They're offering the designs the Empire didn't get for free. We got their families out and now we're going to collect them."

The comm crackled. "Preparing for lightspeed, Sir," the disembodied voice of Spuhr's pilot informed them.

"Thanks, Davi. Hit it."

*******************************************************************************

****

Triadon

Nerano shoved his steak into his mouth with all the fervour of a jawa finding a working piece of machinery in the desert.

Maija stopped eating and gave him an amused look, her fork hovering halfway to her mouth.

"What!" he demanded.

"You're hungry, that's all. Nothing's changed then."

"I'm a big guy. In this job you never know when the next tapcaf will show up and serve a decent meal."

Maija shook her neatly coiffed dark head. "You're attached to the Governor's staff-surely you eat in the better class places. Think about the… the… Rebels for example. Do you think they're eating well?"

"I don't care about them, unless I'm in a position to end their cruelty and destruction. They're criminals - terrorists."

Maija felt her indignation rising but what could she do? Nerano wasn't evil. He was a well-disciplined, totally loyal, brainwashed Imperial soldier. "Okay - forget about them. What about the Triadii?"

"The who?"

"The Triadii. The people living on this planet… Have you seen the conditions they're living and working in?" Maija's voice rose slightly as she tried to reach her one time friend. She caught herself in time and dropped her voice down to an impassioned murmur. Abruptly**,** she pushed away her plate. "You can't call them 'Rebels' - they're working for us."

Nerano gave her a strange look. "They're citizens of the Empire," he said, as if that answered all her questions and made perfect sense.

"Did they ask to be?"

"What's up with you?"

She scrunched up her napkin and threw it down upon her almost untouched plate. "I'm not hungry. Not anymore."

"You've changed**,** little Darklighter."

"I'm not a little girl any longer. I've grown up," her voice was hard. "So have you. Very much the Imperial soldier."

"That sounded almost like an insult. You talk as if it was a bad thing."

Maija opened her mouth to give a reply and then snapped it shut, her eyes growing cold and hard.

Nerano speared an orange vegetable with his knife, before narrowing his eyes at it, his brow furrowing deeply in thought. "I know you're bright, little D.," he said softly, "but talking as if you sympathise with the Rebels isn't smart. If anyone heard you speaking that way**,** you could lose everything you ever worked for. Lord Vader has executed men on the spot for less."

****

Governor's Office, Triadon City

Governor Markieer perused the figures displayed on the datareader on his desk, with a frown. The interview with the garrison commander had told him little. Only that the man was at his wits end about what to do. The security measures had been tightened and yet information was still getting out, while highly important security protocols were being breached as easily as if they were made of sand. They were just blown away. Secure installations suffered sabotage and the power grids blew on almost a daily basis. He had informed the beleaguered Fariu that a curfew on all Triadii citizens was to be imposed. Nothing was ever seen. No one knew anything. He had reluctantly come to the conclusion that the information was getting out from within the Imperial offices. It was an inside job. 

Markieer tightened his thin lips. Fariu wasn't the only one frightened about his position in the Empire. The Emperor had many spies and would not stand for such incompetence. The project they were about to embark upon was going to use all their resources. He could not fail in this - he had no choice. The Empire had many ways of punishing failure. They were about to play for the highest stakes and would crush the rebellion forever.

In any occupation of a world there was bound to be some resistance, no matter how hard they cowed the population, but the Triadii had been fairly pathetic to start with. In this he had been mistaken or they were obviously not crushed enough. He knew there were Rebel cells. He knew where most of them were - they were not behind this annoyance. His agents had established that much. Someone else was organising things, but he could use the original cell members to bring the real culprits forward. They were being used as a front for the real operations. Whoever was now in charge of the rebels had them well trained and covering their tracks. For the first time he found himself unable to locate the perpetrators of the crimes. So they were better organised, better trained and far more successful than they had ever been. He had to stop that trend from continuing.

If he could find the person responsible he might resort to some public executions. The Imperial top Brass might insist on such measures, although he was generally against them. It didn't always work in his favour. He hesitated to push the Triadii any further than he had. Hellish conditions on a deteriorating planet with a crumbling eco-system for second rate food and little pay. The Triadii couldn't quite see the glory of the Empire at this moment in their history. He picked up the datareader and glanced over the figures for the bioscan in the commander's office. Something wasn't quite right about them. They should correspond with the holofootage and they didn't… With a suddenness that was totally unnerving, the lights went out.

"Vader's mask!" he swore loudly into the blackness and heard the squeals and frantic fumblings as his staff tried to find the back up sources. Why weren't the secondary power generators kicking in? A muffled crash echoed along the corridor. Someone had tripped over something; he could hear other muffled curses and shouts. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. There was nothing he could do just now. Let others panic and curse; he had something to try and figure out. He had just been given his first clue. He could wait - not long, but he could wait.

"Sir, are you okay?" A hesitant voice shone a torch directly into his face. Markieer held his hand up as his eyes reacted to the shock of the light.

"I'm fine. Why aren't the secondary back-ups kicking in? What about the standby grids in engineering?"

"We… we don't know, Sir. Everything crashed. The engineers are working on it. Everything's down."

"Everything!" He sat up abruptly, squinting into the line of the torch beam. "Everything?"

Yes, Sir. The whole city is in darkness."

Enough was enough.

**************************************************************

With the entire city in darkness, Maija crept from her quarters and vanished towards the speeder pool. Ahead of her she could hear irate voices and see torches flashing with the dual purpose of signalling and illumination. With a small sound of satisfaction, her fingers closed around her trusty glow rod. It had been one her father had given her and it had an extended life before it needed recharging. She slipped the power cells into the luma and quickly found the speeder she'd purposely moved earlier. No one stopped her as she left the garrison and headed towards the outskirts of the silent city. Then, like a great fire on a hill or the rising sun in the morning, the garrison's power flared back to life. The rest of the city was still in darkness, but they'd got the power working at the base. She smiled with cold satisfaction. It had taken them longer than she'd thought it would.

She drove towards the outskirts of the city. The buildings this far out were ramshackle and depressing. In the total darkness they appeared as silent, threatening shapes. Maija tried to focus. She'd been out here many times in the last few months, but in the darkness it was difficult to get her bearings. Nonetheless she was in the right place. The rusting broken gates and dilapidated signs heralded an old used speeder lot. She pulled out her luma and waved it in an anticlockwise arc three times. Another light flickered on and off.

"Jorek?" she whispered. "It's Jamia."

The thin man smiled tiredly and took the keys to her speeder. "Okay, Jamia. The power only went down above, not below."

"Good," she murmured. He hustled her into a protective structure and handed her a pile of dark clothing, the kind of thing a typical Triadii factory worker might wear, plus a data card. Maija pulled off her Imperial Uniform and slipped into the crumpled apparel. 

Emerging from the hut dressed in her new disguise, she watched as Jorek limped across the uneven ground and bent stiffly over another speeder. This one looked far more battered than the imperial issue one she'd been using, but this one had extras and was disguised to look rough. The engines were highly souped up and humming. The inevitable rain fell on her face and she felt a slight stinging on her skin. _'Acidic,_' she thought. No wonder her nearly new speeder was rusting already. She hastily pulled on her breath mask and protective outer clothing before climbing into the machine. "I won't be long tonight. They're really suspicious back there and if it's known I was missing for any time… be careful."

"You too, Jamia, and may the Force be…"

"I know." She hit the throttle and headed out into the unwelcoming night. 

After what seemed like an age driving in the dark, she reached what resembled one step up from a metal scrapyard. Ghostly twisted shapes of misshapen metal rose threateningly wherever she drove and the whole place was a trap for the unwary and unprepared. The rain dribbled down the transparisteel bubble enclosing her head, but she could see the small hiss of escaping gas as the rain hit the structures. Eventually, they would all disintegrate into nothing but a red-brown sludge that would poison the ground and make it unfit for anything. Nothing grew here any more, but the Empire didn't care. 

Maija switched on her com and gave a careful click. After waiting for a few more seconds, she clicked twice more. The silence pressed in upon her as she waited and with a sigh of relief, she heard an answering two clicks. She held up her luma and again waved it three times in an anti-clockwise arc. With a barely perceptible hiss, a series of interlocking metal gates slid aside and led her deeper into a sinister metal maze. As the speeder reached one section, there would be the click and a spot of a laser beam and another set of gates slid aside.

__

'Finally.' She breathed a sigh of relief as a simple structure came into view. Two burly men came out and guided her into the interior of the structure. They knew who she was, but it still didn't make them loosen the grasp they had on their blaster rifles. In their place she would be doing exactly the same and her own hand slid to the holster at her waist and felt the smooth, comforting, cold security of her own weapon.

"Evening, Miik." She slipped from the speeder and gave the older of the two men a nod.

"Jamia."

"Petr."

"Jamia."

They were men of few words and they would not risk the short time they had by engaging in small talk. They'd gone far beyond that. Maija headed down a corridor and found a young boy waiting beside a turbolift door. He was probably the same age as she was, but she felt older - a lot older.

"Jamia!" His smile was warmer and his voice more enthusiastic. This Rebellion was still a game to him. Until he witnessed his first death close at hand, he would not understand. He hadn't held a dying man in his arms and witnessed the lifeblood draining from his twitching body until there was nothing left.

"Rorri – it's good to see you. Are they…?"

"They're expecting you." He smiled and she gave him one in return before pressing the call for the turbo lift to arrive.

"Level 8."

All the secrecy and creeping about still unnerved her at times and she'd been doing this since before she could remember. She had never not been secretive - there had always been something to hide. At first she'd thought the Rebel cell on Triadon was too unimportant for her to worry about but she'd been wrong. They were good people trying to do what they could for their own kind. She'd thought that they were in love with the idea of being Rebels and all the secrecy was a little too much. Still, these people were still alive and that told Maija quite a lot. They'd also listened to her and treated her with respect. It couldn't have been easy for them to believe that she was able to help them. She knew she looked her age but they had listened to her and had reorganised themselves into a better unit. The damage they'd done over the past two weeks had been considerable. Production had slowed almost to a standstill and the Imperial Masters were getting obviously twitchy.

Maija couldn't shake the feeling that this shipment was more important than they'd surmised. Every factory had been working double, even triple the shifts until the power grids had started to break down. But now was not the time to consider it.

"Jamia!" A good-natured roar greeted her as she walked into a brightly lit room filled to overflowing with sophisticated electronic machinery.

"Krupek." She acknowledged the middle-aged man sitting in front of a large viewscreen with a small smile. "Anything?"

A tall woman with piercing violet eyes and untidy greying hair popped out suddenly from behind a large bank of auditory equipment. Most of it, Maija's eyes flickered with dark amusement, borrowed from the Empire.

"We had a city-wide shut down, including the secondary generators." She beamed with pride at Krupek.

"Apart from here of course?" Maija's voice was laced with dry amusement.

"Of course," Krupek grinned at his companion. "We had to monitor the problem. The hospital also didn't lose power. Lhindalka is clever with such things. Why should the sick suffer more than they already do?"

"True."

"The Governor?" Krupek asked.

"Should be well displeased."

"We wiped all the data in his computer's short-term memory core. We couldn't do any more than that." Lhinda shrugged bony shoulders.

"It gives us a couple of days, though." Maija sat on an old wooden stool. "Is the shipment completed?"

"More or less. They plan to start loading once the power is back on." Lhinda knew they had done what they could. It still might not be enough.

"So it still gives us another couple of days."

Krupek nodded. "At the most, yes."

"Our sources will be able to tell us exactly when it is completed and when it has been loaded onto the ships. I believe they arrived tonight."

"Great." Maija slumped down further on the stool. "We need to know exactly when it leaves and where it is going…"

"So that we can send it somewhere else - right?"

An unwilling chuckle escaped Maija's lips. She glanced over at the older woman. "Does your husband know you practice such wickedness against the Empire, Lhinda?"

Krupek gave a hearty bark of laughter and drew his companion to his side. "My Lhindalka is a clever woman. Of course her husband knows. It was he who suggested it after all."

Maija watched the couple banter and a pang went through her. She briefly thought about her parents….They'd behaved in exactly the same way. Finding amusement even in such difficult times. They'd had to - it was the little moments like this that kept them sane. It was trying to find normality in an unreal world where everything moved too quickly out of your control.

Maija twisted around on her stool and watched a couple of displays on the monitors. "We're going to have major problems here after this, you know. The commander was talking curfews and moving all important power sources onto different grids and having them guarded at all times. Up until now, no disrespect to your good selves, the Triadii have been pushovers. It's not your fault. You had no army, no defences and when the Empire rolled in there was nothing you could have done. But now your planet is dying and so are your people and unless we stop continuous production now - that will happen."

Krupek's merry face lost its happy expression and tired lines appeared on his forehead. "We know. It's too late for Triadon but we have to make the people see that it cannot be allowed to happen anywhere else. We cannot walk in the open air without a breathing mask and air filter. We cannot let the rain fall on our skin because it blisters and burns. Our successes here are going to change things, but not necessarily for the better. We've only got away with so much because we put up no opposition to Imperial occupation. They think it's been lucky strikes."

Maija took a deep breath. "It could mean purges."

"Purges!" Lhinda's face blanched. "Would they go that far?"

"I'm not sure, but this shipment is very important. Far too important to be tidying up a few capital ships. I get the feeling the Empire is planning something big. I don't know what, but I just get the feeling…" She rubbed a grimy hand over her face leaving a dirty streak across a pale cheek. "I just want to prepare you for the worst. Rorri still thinks it's a game."

"He won't soon," Lhinda muttered, her face as white as Maija's.

"Do we still have people at the spaceport?" Maija strove to return them to the task at hand. Dwelling on what might happen could wait.

Lhinda grinned. "We have enough, but most of the loading is now being handled by Imperial personnel only."

"I know that - but if they're in a hurry to load - you never know, they might use them after all."

Krupek gave Maija an approving smile. "Good thinking, little Lieutenant. We'll check it out."

"Even if they just use Imp personnel, the order is so big that it is bound to be visible when they're loading. You can't hide an operation that big."

"There is a gap in the logs and orders." Lhinda pointed to a list on one of the viewscreens. "I think that's when our shipment goes. The gap seems deliberate. No outside ships, unless cleared, have permission to dock at the spaceport."

Maija felt a vague feeling of panic flutter somewhere in her stomach. They had so little time and she had to get that shipment moved and then warn Page where to pick it up. "They are already preparing, but it's no use unless I can tell them where."

Krupek whistled soundlessly. "That's a tough one."

"I have an idea."

Lhinda nodded with satisfaction. "I thought you might."

"Can you get your friends at the spaceport to programme all their vectors one or two degrees out?"

"I think so."

"Leave the Imperial navicomputers to me. If I can do the same then…"

"Everytime they make a hyperspace jump…"

"They will be in the wrong place completely."

"That's the idea."

"You be careful, young one."

"I will, but I'm only going to have seconds to hack into the Imperial navicomps databases."

"We'll arrange a diversion?"

Maija grinned and pulled out a data card. "This is from Jorek. Some disrupter codes to the Chitipek factories. That enough?"

"It's hard to have to rely on our former employees to gain access codes to what was once our own factories." For the first time a hint of bitterness entered Lhinda's voice.

"We couldn't let you risk it and you know it. You're both too valuable to the Rebellion to endanger. You must be the first people they check and discount when things go wrong at Chitipek. If we succeed in that, then your cover is still safe. The people at those factories are still _your _people - not the Empire's. They'll do this because you ask them to."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 ****

Chapter 5

"Ground level." 

The turbo lift whirred almost imperceptibly to the top of the shaft and Maija wondered at the courage and resourcefulness of the Chitipeks. They were now forced to labour in their own factory, but still found time to work for the Rebellion. She paused - forced was a little strong since neither Krupek nor Lhinda toiled deep below the surface, but if they'd refused they would have been quietly removed from their positions of power and probably never heard of again. This way, they could help the Rebellion and their home world. They were given a good offer for the factories. Not what they were worth, but enough to leave them with no money worries. A lot of their wealth had already found its way to the Rebellion by some means or other. Their former positions naturally put them under a lot of suspicion but Krupek and Lhinda refused to let that stop them. They'd explained to the Sector Moff that they would, if possible, like to continue running the plants. They argued that they knew the processes and the employees. The Empire had agreed. In the end, the transfer of power from family to Imperial ownership had been relatively smooth. Their son, Rorri, was trying so hard to wait and do what his parents wanted him to, but he also wanted to be a man and fight for the life of his world. He wanted to do more than hang around at the top of a mineshaft on the off chance that he might see some action. Disillusionment with his life had already set in, but his parents didn't want to see all the innocence stripped from his eyes.

Maija still had their warm wishes echoing in her ears. _'May the Force be with you.' _ She hoped it was and she hadn't imagined that minute flash of awareness and the hope that Page had heard her words in his head. She couldn't be sure. She stretched out tentatively and was met with a muffled silence. Somewhere in her own mind there was a barrier and she had to learn to break it down. But did she want that? On second thoughts, she'd existed without it for years and had managed fine. It just got people killed. _'But it's your gift, your destiny,' _the insidious voice in her head whispered. '_Use it'._ Maija stared hard at the blank turbolift walls and again stretched out to see what was out there. And once again she sensed nothing, just the muffled feeling as if she'd been wrapped in too many layers of clothing. So many, in fact, that she could neither see nor hear.

"Jamia!" A voice hissed through the corridor as she exited the lift. "There's someone here."

"What!" Maija pulled her black cloak over her shoulders and attached her breath mask about her neck.

Rorri, his boyish face clearly anxious, stood trembling before her. His weapon was out of its customary holster and shook in his tight grip. "There's someone here, Jamia."

"Sithspawn," she muttered. "I must have been followed."

"Followed!" His eyes widened. "How could you have been followed? Who could have followed you? Where…? Do we evacuate?" The sentences emerged in short staccato gasps as Rorri gulped the words out worriedly. Things had never been so close to him before.

"No, not yet. If you have to leave, I'll send you a signal. Think before you act; the worst thing you can do is panic," her voice gentled reassuringly. "You're doing fine, Rorri. Krupek and Lhinda must be so proud of you and I know I can rely on you too."

"You're not just saying that?"

Maija gave him a wry look. "I haven't time to patronise you." Time was not in their favour, but she reckoned it was more important to calm the boy down first. Then he would be less likely to make mistakes and in the long run that was definitely the better option.

"It's a man and he's on his own. At least he seems to be on his own." He peered through his night-vision goggles.

"Has he got through the gate system?" she questioned as she fitted her mask over her face and indicated to the younger man that it was time for him to do the same.

"No - he's prowling around outside." Rorri copied her and they edged carefully towards the door.

Maija grabbed her blaster and eased slowly from the building into the night, blending as much as she could into the shadows. _'Stay back_,' she signalled Rorri, her hand movements clear and concise, her weapon set to stun.

With a muffled oath, the mysterious follower kicked part of the interlocking metal gates. They rattled but didn't give. Maija stiffened in recognition at the sound of the hastily stifled curse. She knew that figure and she should have guessed he'd be the one following her. It was, unsurprisingly enough, Nerano. She'd given herself away too many times over the past few hours and he was not the naïve young man he'd once been. He'd developed into a competent imperial officer, if not overly brilliant_. _

'Unfair, Maija,' she told herself_. 'He's a good man and he worked hard for his position. But you don't have to be brilliant to second-guess my loyalties.'_

She groaned inwardly at her own unwitting betrayal of her true allegiance. _'Some rebel agent you turned out to be, Maija Darklighter_.' For the first time in ages, it was brought home to her that she was not invincible and was as capable as the next officer of making mistakes. The idea was a sobering experience and a wisp of fear curled into her stomach.

She couldn't risk compromising the Chitipeks' safety and there were a lot of people in the Rebellion depending on her to provide them with some raw materials to help with the war effort. How to do both was the problem.

Rorri watched mindfully as Maija became lost within the twisted metal graveyard. He suddenly felt very alone and frightened, but he knew he couldn't let anyone down and he wouldn't. All of a sudden he heard a slight rustle next to him and it was with surprise that he saw Maija crawl back to his hiding position. She pulled her breath mask down and gave a faint gasp as the tainted air hit her throat.

"I know him - it's a colleague from the base. I should have guessed he didn't trust me. He's on his own right enough and I don't think he's told anyone yet that he is suspicious. At least I hope he hasn't." Maija crossed her fingers and willed a silent plea out into the open air. '_Please, don't have told anyone yet.'_

She quickly and deftly checked the power pack on her blaster and shook her head in frustration. She was low on power and hadn't time to take spares with her. Hopefully she wouldn't be required to use it. "I'd like you to cover me until I get to the speeder and then let me out the back way. It may give him a clear shot at me, but I think with the element of surprise I should have enough time to get out in front of him. He doesn't know for sure it's me." She gave a faint grin, barely discernible in the darkness. "Once you've let me out, lock up the gates and get your stuff out to the new place. I know it's early, but it's probably a wise move. The fact he's here at all is a security risk."

"Good idea, Jamia. I'll do that immediately." Rorri was serious in his effort to be of use.

"You're in charge here, Rorri. You know the co-ordinates of the new shaft. Get your parents there and get the transmitters set up again. How quickly can you do it?"

Rorri grinned, his confidence returning. They shifted the equipment on a regular basis to avoid detection and Rorri had proved to be very capable at getting people in and out of places. He'd been practically brought up in his parents' factories and mines and knew the layout of each tunnel, shaft and storage level. Useful when hiding places were needed. It was only in the past few months that they'd realised how useful Rorri could be, although he still wanted to be in the thick of things - fighting.

"I can get the entire com centre stripped down in less than an hour and set up in about two more."

Maija nodded approvingly. "When you decide that your parents can cope on their own, I'm certain that the Alliance technical division could use people with that level of expertise."

"My parents don't need me here, Jamia. I'm ready now."

"They do, for a little while longer. They are depending on you, because you're their son and someone they can trust totally. They need that security. Look, Rorri." She turned and placed her hands on his shoulders. "I'm not just saying this." She sighed deeply, the air of world-weariness sitting awkwardly on her slim shoulders. "Aren't you studying at the Triadii Imperial College?"

The young man gave an unwilling nod. 

"Finish your studies first, learn all the new techniques and develop some of your own. Take what the Empire can give you and learn to use it against them as I have. Your mother says you have a real gift for that kind of thing. She told me you can already set up and dismantle com centres faster than any Imperial technician."

"But…"

"That way you will still be alive in two years and be better equipped to help us."

Rorri's face fell, but he knew Jamia was right. "Do you ever regret getting involved so early in your life?"

She made a little sound somewhere between a pained laugh and a sigh. "I regret it, more than you'll ever know, but I had no choice." She sat with her back against the wall and rechecked her blaster again. "Check, Rorri - where is he now?" The blaster slipped a little in her sweaty hands.

"He's still too close," the young man answered in a low voice. "No… he's moving away."

Maija took a couple of steadying breaths and decided a few moments trying to save Rorri from doing anything rash might not go amiss and would help her too. It was important that he understood that it was not his time to act. "I was living this kind of existence before I was even born. I've never known any other way and it's not something I wish on you. My parents were members of the Rebellion essentially from its infancy. We're practically the same age and yet I feel as old as your mother. Don't wish away your time. Besides…" She sighed again. "We need you to protect them." Maija watched as he aimed a scanning device out into the blackness of the murky night. "He's still out there. Nerano is nothing if not thorough."

Peering into the blackness, she assessed her chances. "Is he far enough away yet for me to get to the hover car?"

"Just about - he's over by the far set of gates."

That should do, she decided. "May the Force be with you, Rorri Chitipek. Look after your family." She pulled the breathing mask back over her face and made a run for her vehicle.

Rorri watched carefully until he heard the faint but unmistakable sound of the engine being fired up. Then he activated one of the gates. Not to open but to bang shut with an audible clang. The sound was shocking in the almost-still of the night. The imperial soldier whirled away from the speeder's location towards the sound and Rorri clicked on Maija's com. With a grinding sound from the engine, she shot away.

The Imperial swore loudly and ran to his own vehicle, but she would already have several minutes on him. Rorri thought it might just be enough.

**************************************************

Nerano stared uneasily into the darkness. The speeder he'd followed had disappeared somewhere around here and he was unsure how to proceed. If it was Maija, then she had to be one of the Rebels. He found it worrisome that such a brilliant student had turned to the Rebellion and become a traitor to her people. He'd finally worked it all out, and he didn't like the fact he'd been played for a fool for so long. She must have been brainwashed by the Rebel terrorists from childhood. How could people be so unscrupulous? Perhaps she was just an innocent caught up in all of this. Her parents had worked on Alderaan - clue number one. Her use of illegal electronic gadgets and the cousin who had died in the Rebel assault on the Death Star. Had he really died? Had he ever existed at all or was he another fabrication? Then he recalled that he had seen Biggs at the Academy when he'd graduated as one of the top cadets in his year. No - Biggs Darklighter had definitely existed and he was probably dead. 

The final key to the puzzle was her unguarded comments over their meal. She'd been bitter and her low voiced observations had coiled into his brain. She genuinely cared for the people here while their plight and the conditions they worked under had never crossed his consciousness before. Perhaps he hadn't allowed it to. He was accustomed to feeling safe and cosily accepting the superiority of the Empire. Perhaps he should just say nothing and let her continue what she was doing, but then that would make him a Rebel by association and he couldn't turn a blind eye if it meant that more Imperial citizens lost their lives. He was a loyal officer and working in the service of the Emperor had been his only goal ever since he'd known wrong from right.

He wondered now at his parents' ambivalence at his chosen career. They were proud of him and their lives had become so much easier since he'd been accepted to and graduated from Raithal. Sure, they accepted the perks, but it was the proud, yet fearful expressions on their faces every time he came home on leave that he remembered now. It was as if they thought they might never see him again. His father had been given a promotion at the firm in which he worked and his mother could choose from several of the more exclusive social clubs in the town where they lived. He was glad that he'd been able to do that much for them.

Maybe he was overreacting and Maija wasn't really a rebel spy after all but deep down Franjeer Nerano was sure he'd matched the sandperson with his bantha. He started running towards his own vehicle, dodging discarded piles of rusting metal and small acidic puddles of water. What a hellish position to be in. Betray the one person who'd believed in him all those years ago and helped him gain the place he'd wanted so badly, or murder his own ideals and betray his beliefs in the Empire he'd sworn to protect and give his life for if he could? It was no choice at all - not really.

*******************************************************

Maija gunned the speeder; emerging back at Rorek's used speeder lot. Thank the Force she'd signalled ahead. Rorek had her vehicle waiting. No time to change. She dived into the driver's seat and switched to autopilot. What Rorek couldn't do to an ordinary Imperial covered speeder wasn't worth bothering with. With any luck he'd added one or two extra bonuses for her. But now wasn't the time to ask and she hit the throttle and roared into the gradually recovering city. Having an ordinary speeder fitted with a guidance system might just save her hide - this time. Piling her hair on top of her head, she shoved her hat on top and wormed her way into her Imperial uniform jacket - just in time to take over manually as the vehicle approached the outer perimeter fence of the garrison compound.

Minutes later, Lieutenant M. Darklighter presented her late pass to the guard on duty at the entrance to the garrison compound. All he saw was another officer; hair scraped back and smartly attired. He filed the pass away, not realising that when verified, it had wiped itself clean of all information and checks would find no record of Lieutenant Darklighter leaving or entering the base that day.

*********************************************************

Maija's door chime rang loud and continuously, interrupting the almost frantic haste of the room's occupant. 

Maija took a deep breath, pulled on her robe, and walked as slowly as she could to the door.

"Yes…" she croaked sleepily. "Who is it and what do you want - it's late!"

"Nerano." He barked his name gruffly.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"No." He kept sounding the door chime. "Now!"

"Okay, okay." She made a great play of fumbling for the door controls.

"Open up or I'm going to security."

"Nerano, can't this wait?" she almost wailed and the door slid reluctantly aside. 

Maija stood partly behind the door of her darkened room, her dilated in the dark and she blinked at the harsh glare of the corridor lighting.

Nerano's mouth opened in dumbfounded amazement. Maija's flushed sleepy face greeted him framed by tangled dark curls. Over her shoulder, he could see the neat room and the rumpled bed lit by a single small light. Hanging on a hook was her fresh uniform for the morning… and then there was Maija herself.

Her hair tumbled over her shoulders and drew his unwilling attention to the column of her throat accentuated by the collar of the floor length robe she clutched to herself. Her eyes drooped, heavy lidded, giving her an entirely different appearance. Nerano swallowed. This wasn't the little girl he'd known for all these years. This was a young woman… There was no way she could have been the person he'd followed, but he'd been so _sure_.

"What is it, Nerano?" Her voice was husky with sleep.

"I… I'm sorry to have woken you. It will keep. I'll see you in the morning," he stammered as he began to back away from the door. How could he have been so wrong? He was thoroughly perplexed.

"I really am sorry for disturbing you," he muttered and fled.

Maija closed the door and smiled with cold satisfaction as the aspects of sleep vanished from her eyes. The robe dropped from her shoulders to reveal part of the Triadi factory costume, her tunic trousers and two very muddy Imperial issue boots. She pursed her lips and shook her head. Good job he hadn't spotted those. It would have been a dead give-away. Even out on the rim, you didn't wear your boots to bed.

*****************************************************************

****

Spaceport

The team of maintenance workers looked as if life barely registered in them as they waited for their next set of instructions. The seedy surroundings of the port left little desire in them to show much in the way of emotion. Luke Skywalker battled fatigue as he waited with them. With his hair dyed brown and with his face stained, the young man looked very different from the numerous holos flooding the galaxy in an attempt to capture him. Why he was exactly here, he had no idea, but Page had sent word that it was important and a request from Page was always treated with the seriousness it deserved. He was told he had to ensure homing devices got on to some cargo ships. So he'd left Hoth, where he really needed to be and travelled to this miserable place. At least it was warmer than Hoth - come to think of it, anywhere was warmer than Hoth. It reminded him of Mos Eisley except worse and a touch of homesickness and longing for his former life washed over him. A hint of decay hung over the whole planet - he could feel it through the Force.

A tall, black-clad Imperial officer strode over to the unkempt group and handed the foreman a data card. The man didn't acknowledge the Imperial, merely turned away and spat on the ground. Luke resisted the urge to grin. Somewhere, even in people totally under the Imperial yoke, there existed a bit of resistance - some tiny automatic sparks of rebellion. But Luke also got the feeling that they would behave in exactly the same fashion no matter who the masters were.

The Imperial officer sneered at the apparent crudeness of this lower being but for now he needed them and carefully stepped around the globule of spit mocking him from the ground. Luke slouched his slight frame and assumed the posture of the others.

"We hafta load."

That was all that was said but Luke knew this was his chance. He had to slip some marking tags in with the load. One to find out where it was really going and another to help the Alliance locate it if it should happen to land in their laps. Page had seemed to think it was a possibility. It would also give Luke a chance to find out how many ships there would be and what the guarding escort would be like. He moved off after the last man and joined the work party.

"You the contact?" The foreman shuffled next to him, showing the screen on his beat-up portable reader.

Luke gave a sideways glance and continued working. The correct pass codes had flashed onto the display before disappearing.

"I gotta send a signal. We have someone on the base." He pushed the datareader into his pocket and hefted a large crate into burly arms and shoved it at Luke.

"It's not safe to talk here." Luke muttered, appalled at the lack of security, while trying to adjust the weight in his arms. This life he was leading was dangerous, but the apparent carelessness of these contacts made it seem that they were just asking to be caught.

"Sure it's not. I'm not talking. Look," the man's voice rose a little in exasperation. "Will you be sending the signal or will I?"

Luke turned his back on him to place the crate on top of a repulsor sled. Digging his hand into his tunic he pulled out a silver cylinder and made a couple of adjustments to it. With a faint hiss which was covered by the many sounds of the spaceport, Luke's lightsaber sprang into careful blue life. He'd used one of its alternative settings and a thin sliver of light carved a slit in the side of the durasteel box. 

The Imperial stormtrooper wandered over, his rifle displayed ready to instil fear in the workers. "You there. Quit wasting time."

Luke switched off his saber and replaced it before the trooper could see anything but still had time to slip a couple of markers into the crate. 

"Who us?" the man muttered and waited till the trooper wandered over to the other working groups. Once his attention was away from his line, the contact gave Luke an irritated stare. "Well?"

Luke ducked his head down, annoyance clouding his blue eyes. "Who do I contact?" he hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

"Dunno! Some agent they got stashed in the garrison. We don't talk, we just signal. He, she or it just sends some numbers back and we send them on. Or you do. You new to this?"

"Okay," Luke sighed heavily, trying to keep his dwindling patience. Why on earth was he wasting time here when he could be back on Hoth with the rest of the group? "No, I'm not new to this."

A rather grubby data card transferred into Luke's possession along with the next box and Luke purposely staggered under its weight. 

"The boy here," his companion yelled at the stormtrooper. "He needs five."

The white-armour-clad man moved alongside Luke and assessed his condition. Luke sat slumped in a heap, apparently too tired to move.

"I just need a breather," he panted, his eyes cast down. "I need this work. My mother's sick. I'll work extra hard. We need the money - medicine is expensive. Don't fire me."

"Five minutes," the disembodied voice echoed distantly from the helmet speaker and the black anonymous eyes gazed dispassionately at the pathetic human specimen before him. "Five minutes only and then you're back on. This is not a resort world. You're here to serve the glory of the Empire and the Emperor."

"Yeah, right." Luke drawled, his blue eyes cynical.

The Stormtrooper paused and Luke felt a little uneasy as he held the soldier's gaze, until the foreman bustled up with a data reader and a stack of cards. "Here, young one. While you rest you can read out the loading orders, then you're still being useful." He turned to the trooper and muttered in a loud stage whisper. "The kid here, father was killed by the rebels. His mother never really recovered. He provides the income for the family."

The trooper shook his head before walking away. The Empire was carrying many people but he supposed if they were desperate to work he would turn a blind eye for a short while.

Luke slid the card home and tapped in the commands it gave him and suddenly he felt a crack through the fabric of the Force. It was a strange sense of something unravelling. He shivered and caught an almost familiar presence. His first thought was 'Lord Vader', but no, this was a weak echo of something and then it was gone. He frowned, his blue eyes distant. He had the feeling his life was about to change and would never be the same again. He should have been with Commander Narra with the supply run to Derra Four, but the Force had willed that he be here instead. He turned his attention back to the datareader's display. A series of codes and positional vectors came back along with a short message. 

__

"Good luck, Page. May the Force be with you." 

"Well, I'm not Page, but I'm here on his behalf and I appreciate the sentiment - whoever you are." Luke murmured to himself. Page had been heading out towards the Outer Rim territories last time he'd heard. Something was brewing out there.

Still, his work here was over. He'd planted the markers; he now knew the size of the convoy and its likely escorts. A couple of capital cruisers for every ten ships, each equipped with a full compliment of TIE fighters. The data in the card had provided all the information he needed. Hopefully the spy in the garrison could provide the location. Concentrating as hard as he could, Luke spun a line in the Force and one of the boxes slid to the edge of the loaded repulsor sled. Sweat broke out on his brow and he lifted his hand a little. His shoulders slumped. Call himself a Jedi! He didn't know the first thing about using the Force properly and without training… The only man who could have trained him was dead. Squashing his moment of self-pity, he summoned up a last piece of desperate effort. Again Luke reached out and finally eased the box over the edge, where it toppled onto the ground with a resonant crash. In the resulting confusion, he slipped from the loading area and returned to the location of the shuttle he'd been using. Things were looking good so far. His shuttle was as he had left it. There had been word of a ship-to-ship search for security reasons but so far it hadn't materialised.

"Time to go," he murmured into his comlink. "Artoo! Fire up the converters."

**********************************************************

****

Imperial Garrison

Maija sat alone in her office dealing with the commander's correspondence when a light began to shine on her console. Incoming data and with a particular code added to it that made her heart beat a little faster, but as she reached out to transfer the data to her screen she was shot through with a frisson of awareness in the Force. It was as if all the lights had gone back on because she'd been in the dark for so long. As suddenly as it had appeared, the feeling left her but it had been so strong that instinctively she'd reached out to touch the feeling. Another Force user? She couldn't be sure. She rubbed her shaking hands over her face before transferring the data to a data card and sending the encrypted information back as required. She knew what this meant. The ships were being loaded on time and her period as an Imperial employee was probably up. A faint tinge of fear entered her mind. She would do what she had to. For now it was a waiting game. 

And high in the ceiling a mechanical spying device watched unblinking.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 ****

Chapter 6 

Triadon Imperial Garrison

A whole week had passed since Maija had last felt that brush with the Force. Strange - twice in a matter of days after not experiencing anything since her parents had died. Part of her was glad that the unwanted skill was returning and part of her dreaded it, especially now that she'd started dreaming again. She'd not dreamt since that day when her small world had closed in upon itself and she'd had to endure the loss of her family. Maija didn't dream - not in the day, where a daydream had a pleasant connotation, or at night, where they could assume a more sinister and frightening form. Her untroubled rest had been absolute.

These dreams had no form or shape and she could never remember them or their contents - just the vague feeling of hidden forces at work and darkness working within them. Maija tried to sort out the confusion in her mind. Subconsciously, she still tried to use the Force even though she sensed nothing.

The first set of codes had been sent to the various cells hidden around Triadon and she knew that the first ships in the convoys had left the spaceport with their Star Destroyer escort. Then the Rebels pulled off another computer malfunction. Usually Maija was the instigator in these little glitches but Maija had nothing to do with this one. She knew they were only doing what she'd trained them to do, but this was the wrong timing for everyone concerned. It meant that the rest of the ships left for their originally intended destination. She'd not been able to contact the cells because security at the base had been tightened further with the escalation of the Alliance - Imperial conflict, and according to the reports from which Maija had managed to glean information, there was a definite escalation. The Empire didn't want to admit publicly that the Rebels were anything more than a minor nuisance. Therefore any broadcasts directed outside the garrison were too dangerous. So far she'd been lucky she hoped. She'd risked sending those co-ordinates - anything to help the Rebellion. Things were not going the Rebellion's way at all, especially with the news of an Imperial victory in the Derra system near a planet called Derra IV. A convoy of alliance supply ships and their X-wing squadron escort had been completely destroyed. Maija, her expression grim, was even more determined to find ways to help.

She tapped a couple of commands into her computer console and waited to see if the encryptions on the screen in front of her would clear.

__

"Access Denied!"

"Blast!" she murmured and tried another sequence of numbers and letters, before shrugging fatalistically and trying something different. This time she was in luck and the destinations for the Imperial fleet displayed themselves before her. When would the '_Executor'_ be at Kuat for its refit? The answer surprised her. It wouldn't. There was no word on any of the manifests of the '_Executor_' or any other ships in the fleet approaching the Kuat shipyards. So where were the shipments of metallic ores and durasteel bound? Where were they really going and why? The _'Executor'_ was chasing rebels out towards the Ison corridor, not far from Derra IV. The Empire had apparently deployed thousands of probe droids in an attempt to locate the current main rebel base. She hoped they would fail to find the base, but the hope was slim. The new probe droids the Empire was utilising had proved to be ruthlessly efficient. So why were the convoy ships headed in the opposite direction from where they were supposed to be? It must be _some_ construction project.

Maija had managed to divert three ships out of twenty. Not particularly good odds, but perhaps enough for the Alliance's stretched resources to contain. With the amount of raw materials on those ships, it would still be a valuable addition to their meagre supplies and a boost to morale. If what she'd heard about Derra IV was true, they would need all the help they could get. 

She started to deal with Commander Fariu's correspondence, but her mind remained busy. Surely all the training she'd received on Imperial Center and at Raithal made her more competent than just to serve as Fariu's social secretary. 

Maija closed down her machine and logged off for her shift. One fact still stood out - the refit story was a ruse, but for what, and how could she warn the Alliance command team that something else was in the wind? To do that properly she had to get off Triadon before they blew her cover. All requests for leave had been cancelled and anyone requesting time for a family emergency would have that family scrutinised very thoroughly. Maija knew her family couldn't stand that sort of Imperial Government inspection. She was from Tatooine to begin with - a lawless rim world which had proved to be a fertile breeding ground for rebels. Her parents had worked and died on Alderaan; her cousin, Biggs, had defected and died in the fight against the Death Star and her other cousin, Gavin, had joined up not long ago. She didn't want such facts to be brought to light. One such anomaly was fine. You could be excused one dark ronto in your cupboard but with her family background**,** it was a wonder she was still working so close to sensitive areas. Sure, she was being watched; they all were in this part of the garrison. It made sense and it would behove her to remember that fact. She'd found most of the holocams and spying aids, but couldn't discount the fact that there might be one or two she'd missed. Complacency was not an option here.

Her fingers lightly touched the data card hidden inside her tunic. Page had given her this one. It contained codes and a contact to get her off-world. Perhaps it was time to use it. Still, she shied away from making that final step - there must be more she could find out about what the Empire was up to. She owed it to her people to tell them before it was too late. 

Then there was Nerano. Her one-time friend was now awkward and suspicious around her. She'd caught him staring at her until she'd matched his gaze and he'd flushed and turned away. He remained embarrassed over his 'mistake' but still believed he'd been right the first time. Maija assumed that he would continue to distrust her.

She cleared out of her office and headed down towards the com centre. It was fully manned as always and there was something going on. A couple of the ensigns were staring at incoming data in a complete panic.

"What is it?" Maija asked crisply.

"Oh, Sir," a tall, fair-haired man said**,** relief evident in his voice. "We've lost contact with the first group in the convoy. They are not receiving or answering our hails."

"Nothing?" Maija questioned and stared at the screen. "Have you contacted the Commander?"

"No… I…"

"Don't you think that might be a wise move?"

"Yes…."

"The Governor too." 

"Oh… of course. I forgot about the Governor." His white face had blanched even whiter at the thought that he might have done something wrong in a crisis. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

"Here. I'll do it. You go and get the transmissions sent out to Imperial Command. I'm sure they'll want to know that part of their convoy is missing." Maija seated herself at a monitor and started to furiously type in commands.

__

"Access Denied"

"Sith!" she muttered. She was nearly there. She had it in front of her but she just couldn't get at it. The site she'd accessed was so heavily encrypted it would take weeks to decipher. Her stumbling upon this screen was by chance but chance would not crack that code in a hurry, and with this level of encryption it was a site that would have markers left in place to activate alarms. She'd been on too long already. One more try?

__

"Access Denied" The machine made a strange disgusted noise and a couple of the flustered techs gave her nervous smiles in sympathy.

'Better leave it then,' she thought and began to deal with the heightened levels of panic among the com centre staff. Commander Fariu turned up half an hour later, his face as white as the soldier she'd dealt with earlier.

"We'll all be transferred for sure. I'll be demoted or sent to Kessel…"

"Calm down, Sir. Worrying about it will not bring the convoy back. We have to search for its likely location." And they had**, **but to no avail. The ships and the escort frigates had vanished. 

"Once the Moff hears about this…"

Maija made a few searches of the point where the ships had supposedly disappeared and, as she had expected, there was nothing. "Shall I try sending a broadcast to their last known co-ordinates, Sir?" she asked the gibbering commanding officer.

"Yes, try that. Try _everything_!"

This was just the excuse she needed and Maija quickly sent not one, but two messages out into the depths of space. The second message had a destination.

****************************************************************

****

Alliance Listening Station on Garva Three

"Signal coming in." The Twilek com officer whirled around in his chair to grin triumphantly at his colleague.

Lieutenant Cullen Page lifted cool grey eyes from his data pad. "What kind of signal?" He sounded completely calm and slightly uninterested, slouching in a soft, battered nerf-leather chair, his legs swinging idly. But the man was alert; he was waiting for something. 

"There's a message in the data stream and what looks like a set of co-ordinates. Encrypted, but not heavily. Still, it will waste a little time."

"Try putting in 'Tatooine'."

Char'dek'hi looked towards his friend and colleague. "You have an idea who it's from, don't you?"

Page lifted his hand and shrugged. "I'm hope so. We have a female operative on Triadon. Third planet in the Adon system."

"Imperial mining and durasteel producing facility. That's why you've suddenly turned up here after so many months. It isn't that you missed our sparkling repartee and wondrous cuisine. I should be upset over this."

"You want your head tails served up next meal?" Cullen's voice was dry.

"I'm putting in Tatooine. What a name to choose. It's a hellish climate and all that sand…"

"I know, been there." Page's voice was brisk. "Any luck?"

"Nope, no luck there."

Page scratched his mousy head thoughtfully. "All right, try 'chaptor and verse', but alter the spelling of the first word. Change the 'e' to an 'o'."

The Twilek gave a twitch of his lekku and shrugged. "It's your funeral. Wait a minute... inputting now." His lekku twitched excitedly. "Hey! Cullen old man, I do believe it's working. There's a file in there with your name on it and a request for a get out."

"There's no question of that. We will have to get her out of there." Cullen uncoiled his body from the low chair and stared hard at the figures spilling over the viewscreen. Leaning over Char's shoulder, he tapped a couple of commands into the machine and whistled softly. "She's given us access to some Imperial military files, but as yet she's unable to crack the code because it's too heavily encrypted. She found it by chance but thinks her digging may have tripped some alarms." He closed his eyes for a second. "She _thinks_ she _may_ have tripped some alarms. I told her to be careful."

Char peered closely at the data. "Can you get her out? How far is the Adon system from here?" He moved to consult his navigational charts. "You could get within reaches of the system in about a day."

"She's only a kid." Page lifted his shoulder. Somehow the small movement signified a lot more. "She laid herself on the line for us."

"Hey, old man**,** we were all kids once - even you."

"Yeah, but I had a chance to be one. It's important we get her out."

"We?"

"Yeah, I could use a co-pilot."

*********************************************************

Maija met Nerano for supper at one of the garrison's tapcafs later that evening. The whole building was working round the clock and the Commander and the Governor had been closeted in the Commander's office for nearly three hours. There was no doubt that heads would roll for that morning's blunder. The only question was - whose?

"Have they found anything?" Nerano asked uncomfortably. 

"No, nothing. We've gone through all the security files. The codes have been checked and rechecked. There is no way anyone can know where those ships are."

"Do you know?"

Maija's eyes narrowed. "I know as much as you do - probably less," she muttered. "My main function is to type letters for the Commander. What a waste of my training."

"But you have access to most of the files."

"I have access but not clearance for the codes needed. Those ships were going to Kuat. The materials in the cargo were for refits to the Imperial fleet and that is all I know." She paused, deep in thought. "Do you know anything you're not telling me?" Her voice was direct and her dark eyes challenging.

"No… of course not." Nerano answered as firmly as he could, but his eyes slid away guiltily, refusing to meet hers. He only suspected Maija of treason. He couldn't prove anything - yet.

"Then why did you think that I might?"

Nerano took a bite of his nerf steak and chewed thoughtfully before spearing her with a pointed look and asking, "What made you go to the Academy? What made you want to serve the Empire?"

Maija put down her fork and sighed. "My scores were so high I was placed on an accelerated training programme. When they were still high, it was '_suggested' _to my family that I would '_benefit'_ from some proper Imperial guidance." She broke off. "Look, Nerano, you know all this."

"I'm curious - remind me."

"That's all there is." She gave him an exasperated glare.

"So it wasn't really your choice?"

"What's the point of this? Does it matter?" she questioned irritably. "You angling for a job as chief interrogator at a penal colony?"

Nerano stared at her in surprise.

__

'Penal Colony'. The words hammered into her brain and echoed over and over. _'Penal colony.'_

Nerano waved his hands over and over in front of her face. "Hey! Darklighter?" He snapped his fingers. "Come in, Lieutenant. You were miles away."

"What!" She turned dark**,** large-pupilled eyes in his direction. "What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything."

"Sorry." Maija jumped to her feet with an "I gotta go," and moved swiftly out of the tapcaf**,** leaving Nerano staring at her almost untouched meal. 

Something he'd said had spooked her. It was when she'd talked about the penal colony. Could that have been it? Did she have a guilty conscience?

Maija returned to her room and pulled out her portable computer. She needed to access the terminal right now. Something about the words she'd uttered had reminded her of… Quickly she accessed the site she'd found before and watched as it swirled in front of her eyes - the beautiful, intricate strands of code twisting and changing right in front of her. She typed in the words _'penal colony'_ and nothing happened. The usual message flashed up in front of her. If she could only think of names. Pulling out an old Imperial database source book she'd used while at the Academy, she thumbed through its still-crisp pages. She didn't own many books and this was a pretty useless one to own at that, but she loved the feel of the sheets of flimsi beneath her fingers. Listed in one of the chapters was a register of all Imperial penal colonies. Most of these were in the more usual routes travelled in the galaxy. She wanted something in the Outer Rim. Once she'd found it**,** she would check on its position. Something told her that, however fanciful it sounded, the Force had led her to this conclusion. 

********************************************

"Lieutenant Nerano - report."

Nerano lifted his head at the sound of his own name echoing through the open tannoy. "Damn!" he swore quietly. He must have switched his comlink off. With a last look at Maija's cold, congealing meal, he hurried from the tapcaf, fumbling in his jacket pocket for the previously ignored comlink and thumbing it on.

"Nerano!" he uttered sharply.

"The Governor wants to see you now in his office."

"Yes, Sir. I'm on my way."

He strode quickly to the yard and commandeered one of the official drivers. When the Governor said _'Now_! ' You moved.

He sat in the back of the covered hovercar and watched the depressing vista of shabby, ramshackle buildings through discreetly darkened windows. The rain trickled down the windows turning the scene outside grey and empty. A splash of pristine white caught his eye and he leaned forward in his seat to get a better view.

"What is it?" he wondered aloud as the hovercar swerved abruptly to avoid a small crowd of locals. 

"Stormtrooper detachment, Sir," the driver answered. "They found a nest of aliens living in a human-only area. They are being moved for the protection of the residents."

Nerano peered through the steadily driving rain and caught a glimpse of a bedraggled family of what looked like Duros. A child huddled under his father's cloak, big eyes frightened, before being prodded in the back with the butt of a large rifle. The child went sprawling and the parents immediately stopped to help. All Nerano could do was watch as the Troopers opened fire and the father was gunned down in front of his eyes. Then the hovercar turned the corner and headed towards the Governor's residence. Nerano slumped back in his seat, something in his brain beginning to tick over.

"What will they do with the rest of the family?" he asked quietly.

The driver shrugged as he turned the vehicle towards the entrance security checkpoint. "They'll be shipped to a world more suitable for their kind, where they can show their proper appreciation to the Empire by helping us fight the traitors. Don't worry, Sir. They'll not affect decent Imperial citizens again."

__

'But they weren't doing any harm,' he thought to himself. _'They're Imperial citizens too.' _"But…" he started to say, then stopped.

The driver gave him a curious look. "They're here to serve us."

Nerano realised with an unpleasant jolt what the driver meant. He was talking about the aliens as fit only for serving the human population. He was talking about slavery. Nerano sat back against the plush leather upholstery of the hovercar and tried to wipe the unpleasant echo of the blaster fire from his mind. He could be in a lot of trouble if he asked any more stupid questions like that one.

"Of course," he murmured in his best officer's voice. "It is as it should be."

********************************************

****

Governor's Residence, Triadon City

Governor Markieer stretched lazily in his comfortable chair and indicated that Nerano could relax his stiff parade ground stance. "I'd like to ask you a few questions, Nerano. If you don't mind?"

"Of course not, Sir," the large soldier answered as a tinge of nervousness attacked his gut.

"You've worked for me for over a year now. First on Serold and now here on Triadon."

"Yes, Sir."

"You've proved to be an exemplary officer during that period."

"Thank you, Sir." Nerano knew it was nothing less than the truth. He had vowed to serve his Emperor and had done so to the best of his ability, but the commendation by his superior still left him gaping like a nerf. He closed his mouth quickly. Nerano knew he didn't look like Imperial officer material when he stood slack-jawed.

"You've remained constant with me where others have not. Am I such a hard taskmaster?" The keen eyes glinted with humour.

"Of course not, Sir." He was quick to jump in with the expected reply.

Markieer pressed a switch on his desk and a viewscreen rose smoothly from within the desk's carved and polished surface.

"I would like you to identify the following officers who have served with you. Please take a seat." He indicated the vacant chair in front of the desk.

"Of course, Sir."

"This one?" The Governor's sharp features turned and pointed to the holo of a young man.

"Officer Laren Trubidek - he wanted to be near his wife when they had family."

"And they did too. A boy, I believe. They already have his name down for the Academy." His eyes glinted again. "And this one?"

"Lieutenant Ria Thot," Nerano recited dully. He hadn't liked the woman. There had been few womanly qualities about her, but she had been a good officer. "She couldn't cope with the conditions on Triadon. She was allergic to something in the atmosphere… and she's a woman."

"Good - full marks for observation. It was sometimes difficult to tell. She's now working on Coruscant. A very good posting**,** I believe." His voice was dry. "Then there's the last one. He only lasted a matter of weeks before he disappeared."

"Lieutenant Cul Chaptor…" Nerano frowned. "I thought he was on leave. It's true I haven't seen him for a while… but…" He racked his memory for what he knew of the man and was disconcerted to find that it was very little. "Personnel said he had gained unexpected leave and you never mentioned it, Sir."

"Perhaps I never mentioned it because I went to a conference on Garva 4. When I returned, I found that my ever-rotating staff has done so again. In a place where we obviously have security leaks in a big way, I find this rather disconcerting and a trifle worrying." Markieer switched to a list of data files and called up information. "It says here he was granted ten days leave. That was ten days ago. He has not returned. I find that a little suspicious. Check all records on Cul Chaptor. There is no indication where he was going to spend his leave?"

"He never mentioned anything like that to me," Nerano sounded a little confused. "Do you suppose he's in trouble?"

"I'm not worried about him per se. I'm more worried that he might be a Rebel spy."

Nerano froze for a moment. '_He was a little too friendly with Maija,'_ and again his doubts about the girl he'd once called 'friend' slipped to the forefront of his thoughts. "I'll get right on it, Sir."

Nerano rose from the chair he'd perched himself on, gave a snappy salute and marched from the office, his mind in turmoil.

"Could you run this name through the data files for me, please?" he asked one of the secretaries politely.

"Of course, Sir," he answered.

Nerano bent his bulky frame over the viewscreen and watched as the information materialised. It was all there. Names, dates, a homeworld and a career listing. It was as the Governor had said. He'd gone on leave and hadn't returned. Why had he not returned?

"Transfer this to the Governor, please," he instructed, and then paused. "Could you also check the information listed below? Contact the addresses you have here and do it now. This has priority."

"Yes, Sir. It may take some time…" The young officer's voice tailed off. "As you wish, Sir."

"Do it as fast as you can." Nerano almost expected there to be nothing. It looked like Chaptor was on the level after all. He hoped the guy hadn't run into some sort of trouble. He'd liked him. He returned to his desk only to find the Governor wanted him.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Have you checked yet?"

"Yes, Sir. It all looks fine."

"If it were 'fine', as you so crudely put it, then why has he not returned?"

"I don't know, Sir."

"Has he been destroyed because he works on Triadon - an important industrial world in the eyes of the Empire, or is he something that he pretended not to be? We must consider all options here."

Nerano opened his mouth and closed it again. _'No!'_ his mind screamed at him. '_Don't say anything. You don't have to involve Maija yet. If she's innocent of all this**,** I will just have implicated her in this for nothing and caused grief and possibly worse.'_

"What is it, Nerano?" The Governor's acute intelligence had picked up on his Lieutenant's hesitation.

Nerano shook is head. "This is probably nothing, but…" He had to say something. "Chaptor served briefly with a Rebel traitor during his early years with the Imperial Navy."

The governor lifted his head from his perusal of a data card. "Go on."

"It came up once in conversation."

"He actually told you this?" The Governor's voice had picked up and his eyes sharpened.

"Yes - we were just chatting and wondering why Rebels became Rebels. That was all. He said he'd served with a pilot who had defected just after graduation along with a number of his class. He said it was a waste of a good Imperial officer."

"Oh!" Markieer's eyes narrowed slightly and he queried briskly, "Did he give you a name at all?"

Nerano hesitated and then answered as firmly as he could. "No, but it may be possible to find out, Sir, if you really wanted to."

"Oh I want to. We're losing information at an alarming rate and the Sector Moff is most displeased. Months ago we could have expected Lord Vader arrive to see what was happening, but I am told he is concerned with other things at the moment. However - if we don't find out soon how our information is getting out and losing us vital supplies, we will _all_ be in serious trouble."

****


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 

**Chapter 7**

Imperial Garrison, Triadon - Maija's Quarters

Maija's fingers brushed over the touch-sensitive screen on her computer and watched as the names of hundreds and hundreds of prison worlds shimmered lightly under her touch. _'There were so many names,' she thought with a momentary tinge of sorrow. __'So many places where too many cruelties were left to go unpunished.' They should serve as a warning to anyone who doubted the reason for the Rebellion's existence. Then, with an ever-present ache, she remembered Alderaan and the loss of her parents. To many this represented a far more obvious human cost. Was it really nearly three years since she'd felt the death blow? Her gaze focused once again on the names on her viewscreen._

"Akritar?" she wondered aloud. "Kessel, or the slave mines on Alzoc III?" 

There was something about one of the prison worlds that would become vitally important. If she could only find out which one. Which one to use?

The screen seemed to mock her and she attempted to use the Force to guide her hand. Maija closed her eyes, stretched her hand towards the locations in front of her and struggled to feel something - _anything. But whatever had guided her up to this point had left her. "Perhaps this is not for me to find," she whispered. "Still… I must try - I can't just leave it here."_

Calling up the twisting, strands of code, she stared at the moving rivulets of meaningless data, running down her screen like rain against a viewport. "Kessel," she murmured softly. "It's as good as any other… it's a place where despair rules." 

Her decision made, Maija took a deep breath and gently pressed her fingers against the chosen word. 

With a little popping sound the screen went blank, no, not blank - completely dead. Her access to news of the outside world - severed.

"No!"

She was left staring at nothing until an acrid, burning smell assaulted her nose. With a gasp of frustration Maija wrenched the plug from the socket. She was now effectively blind. The computer had just given up and with a sinking feeling she wondered how many alarms she'd tripped on her quest to crack the codes. "I should have listened to myself. I was not meant to discover this and now things are worse.

Pulling a vicious looking vibroblade from her boot heel, Maija sliced open the processing unit and looked aghast at its charred and smoking insides. 

"It's gone and melted on me - sithspit!" she cursed fiercely. But there was no time to deal with it just then, so she pushed it under her bed.

***********************************************

**The Governor's Residence, Triadon **

** **

Nerano saluted the Governor as he left the office to return home to his family. It had been a strange day, he mused to himself. Uppermost in his thoughts was the behaviour of his friend. 

"Sir," the aide called.

"Yes?"

"I checked and double checked the information on the identity of the man you gave me to research."

"Nothing then?"

"No, Sir."

"No!He doesn't exist?"

"Oh yes, Sir, he does, or rather, he did.Nearly everything checked out. Just not his first name. So I went over everything again. This is him isn't it?"

Nerano stared at the fuzzy holo image. It could be and then again, it was out of focus - the edges blurred, the likeness poor.

"Mmm, it's not very clear. It could be him and then again it might not."

"Everything about him wasn't clear. So I contacted his home world. It was rather weird, Sir."

Nerano froze. "Explain!" he barked.

"He's dead, Sir. Died six months ago. I have a clearer holo here… " He held out the image. 

Nerano forgot his Imperial training for a moment, before remembering it. It was not the man he'd known. But the likeness _was close. The Rebels must have good Intel people to find such a close likeness. "Good," he said. "You've done well. In fact you could get a commendation for such work."_

"Is this the spy, Sir?"

Nerano opened his mouth to say that he wasn't sure, but that this person was certainly a suspect, since he'd disappeared without trace and his records had been very cleverly falsified. He hesitated just for an instant, unsure how to phrase his reply to the waiting aide, and then found himself saying something quite different instead. "No, this was in fact a… a training exercise which you passed with flying colours, as they say." He risked glancing at the aide to see if his assistant knew that he was lying. But the man seemed pleased with Nerano's answer and returned to his workstation. 

Nerano sank onto his own chair and tried to look as if he hadn't made possibly the worst decision of his life. _'What possessed me? I've just gone and ruined everything I ever worked for and I don't know why.'_

_ _

He stared at his chrono willing the hours and minutes to tick away. He had to speak to Maija. He had to find out if she was a traitor. He had to know the _truth._

********************************************

**Coruscant**

** **

The alarms began to sound as soon as Maija, on Triadon, touched her viewscreen. The officer in charge of monitoring security files sat up in shock. This couldn't be happening. Someone was attempting to decode the most top-secret files in the Empire and they had come damned close to succeeding too. He flicked a switch to block the attempt and snapped into his comlink. "Trace it!"

He nodded towards one of his staff. "I need a secure link to the General, immediately, and have you traced it yet?"

"Not yet, Commander. Patching you through to General Tedx now."

He explained the situation succinctly to his superior. "We have stopped the breach and are attempting to trace the location of the slicer."

"Which files?"

"Top priority, Sir. We have no idea what they contain."

General Tedx did and he wasn't happy about it. If the Emperor got wind of this….

"We'd better inform the Director," the General decided.

"No need. She already knows." The words were chillingly cold, matching the glacial blue of one eye and starting a rush of fear in her subordinates, yet red-hot in the intensity of the glowing red of her other eye.

"Director Isard!"His discomfort at her sudden appearance was apparent."The Emperor will need to know?" The words were fearful.

"Only if the situation continues - which it will not. Deal with it and I will expect a full report. His majesty has more pressing matters on his mind than some juvenile delinquent hacking into state security files."

"But suppose it's the Rebels?"

"I said 'deal with it'."

The General saluted and as he turned to go his com sounded. "General, we've traced the signal."

"You have?" He turned to face the head of Intelligence. "Where?"

"Adon system, Sir."

"The Adon system," he echoed.

Isard was already checking through the Imperial planetary database and her voice was grim. "The only inhabited world in that system is Adon III."

"Otherwise known as Triadon," the General finished. "It's a mining colony, producing materials for the Imperial war effort."

"Notify the sector Moff and the Governor."

"Director Isard… Triadon is also the site for the testing of…"

"I know," she cut him off sharply. "This is more important than I thought. If it is known what those metal ores are for… Send a team out there immediately."

"Yes ma'am."

*********************************************************************

** **

**Imperial Garrison, Triadon**

Commander Fariu winced with pain as more data scrolled past his eyes. He'd stopped absorbing any of this information well over an hour ago. He placed his hand on his forehead and rubbed wearily. He'd gone through the data concerning most of his personal staff and it had all checked out. No anomalies, no suspicious events in their backgrounds - nothing out of the ordinary whatsoever. Everything came up smelling of Ghaala lilies.

Maija entered the office and watched her superior as he continued to go through files.

"Ah, Lieutenant. I was just about to go through your personal files. Can I ask you some questions? Since you are here…" He sighed and rubbed his forehead again.

"Sir, you have a headache?"

"Yes, Lieutenant, I have."

"Do you want me to alert the medical droid. I'm sure he could prepare you something to ease the pain."

Fariu nodded and then wished he hadn't as pain lanced through him. "Please."

"You could ask me the questions later, Sir. I suggest you go to your quarters and rest. I'll send the medication there and perhaps an hour's rest would refresh you. You've at this all day and without meals too. I think, Sir, that you just need a break and then you'll feel better equipped to tackle the information."

He looked at the girl in front of him, her pale face showing the correct mixture of composure and concern, her black uniform crisply pressed - the very picture of an Imperial soldier. He was tired - the hunt for spies and traitors was getting to him. Despite his best efforts and all the extra security, things were still going wrong. He smiled wearily at her.

Maija sent him a calm smile in return. "I'll still be here later on, Sir. The best way for us to catch these Rebel spies and traitors is to be at the top of our game. Take a break, Sir," she repeated. "You'll find you get through twice as much when you return to the task."

It was good to have people you could depend upon. "Thank you, lieutenant. You are right."

As soon as he'd left the office, Maija perched quickly on the edge of his nerf-hide chair and quickly hacked into the files, marking her own records as having been checked. She then called down to the medicentre and had the medical droid prepare a sleeping draught for the Commander. It should make him sleep for several hours if she was lucky.

"What are you doing?"

Maija jumped at the sound of Nerano's voice. "I'm accessing the medical files. The Commander isn't feeling well and I'm sending a request to the medical droid for something for his headache. What did you think I was doing?" She hit the button, which cleared her own files from the screen. "Hacking into the files to send secret messages out?" 

Her voice was derisive and Nerano felt a little foolish. Still, he felt so distrustful of her motives, he had to question everything she said or did.

"Fariu's checking our records. These are accessible only by the Commander, the Governor and the Moff." Maija's expression was dry.

"But you are a talented encryptor. You could surely bypass the codes if you had to."

Maija snorted. "Not on these files, I can assure you. I would need weeks to get into them - not minutes. The Commander was in here two minutes ago. What am I going to get through that quickly?" She speared him in place with a direct look. "I'm not sure if I like your questions, Lieutenant Nerano."

"I'm sorry, Darklighter…. It's just…"

"You have great faith in my abilities. If I was that good, I'd have been snapped up by the Intel division as soon as I graduated from 'The Academy'". Maija gave Nerano a frosty look. "Don't you have duties for the Governor?"

She moved from the office and returned to her own desk, where she sat with a stony-faced expression. He didn't need to know that Intel had approached her on behalf of the Analysis Bureau, but Maija had firmly refused. She wanted to attend the Diplomatic Centre. It was the one course that was prized above even an Intel placement.

"Look, I'm sorry…" he tried to apologise again.

Maija lifted her head, the harsh expression on her face softening a little. "So am I, Franjeer, so am I. What have I done to make you question my every move in this way? We were friends when we attended the Academy together. In fact you were my only friend."

"I don't think I know you any more, Darklighter. I don't think we see things in the same way anymore."

"I don't know, Franjeer. I don't know if we ever did." The words emerged from a heartfelt sigh.

"I need to talk to you…"

"So talk. You've been doing a lot of that of late."

"I can't talk here." Nerano looked tired suddenly.

Maija paused and stared at the big man as he shifted awkwardly in front of her. "Sure," she murmured. "Mess hall?"

"Yeah…." Nerano shuffled his feet and coughed. "I'd better go."

"Yes, I have work to do."

Maija followed his retreating figure with her eyes as he disappeared down the long corridor. Force knows if she would be meeting him in the mess hall. She moved to the general office area and gave out the usual duty rotations and made sure the staff were gainfully employed before returning to her own office. With a quick eye on the chrono Maija quickly returned to deal with the Commander's correspondence. A coded message caught her eye and with the sure knowledge of her superior's codes - she deciphered it.

_'Expect a team from Intel. You have a spy on Triadon.'_

_ _

Maija froze. She knew it had happened and foolishly she was waiting for things to carry on as normal. With a click she destroyed all her files and left her office, leaving only that message. She had to go and it had to be now. With a calmness that was completely assumed, her heart began to thud heavily and loudly in her ears. So it had finally happened - it was time to make the break with the Empire. If she could just manage to get out of Triadon alive. She wandered casually along the grey corridors and made her way to the outside compound only to see a group of Triadii citizens brought in for questioning.

The Governor had intimated that there would be purges if the systems malfunctions continued. It now looked as if he was making good on that threat. Suddenly, a face caught her attention and her stomach somersaulted.

_'Stang! she mouthed silently. Krupek Chitipek stood silently with the rest of the frightened group and with a sinking feeling Maija spotted Lhinda cowering behind him. __'Rorri'. She thought, __'Where was Rorri?' But Rorri was not with his parents._

Switching directions she moved nearer to the group and tried to look like an Imperial officer would look at a group of possible suspects. Still, not by a look or a word did she or the Chitipeks acknowledge in any way that they knew each other or had even met before.

Maija's heart sank. She knew the Chitipeks wouldn't talk willingly, but under interrogation and torture even the strongest could break. As the group were led away, Maija saw Lhinda turn around and look straight at her. The message was clear. Find Rorri and make sure he was safe. She had to do it. So where was Rorri Chitipek likely to go in this situation? Something in Lhinda's measured stare told her that Rorri knew his parents were in danger and he'd gone somewhere to hide. At least she hoped he'd gone somewhere to hide.

She turned back and went to her quarters where she rapidly packed a small holdall, stuffing her ruined processing unit to the very depths of the bag. Her blaster was placed in a shoulder holster and she stuffed a couple of knives in the sheaths fitted into the side of her boot. The last task was to collect a small box from behind an air vent in the wall. It, too, was placed into her bag. Putting on her protective cloak, she grabbed a stray data pad and a couple of cards from the bedside table. A couple of outside passes and a document signed by Governor Fariu were transferred into the holdall and she was ready. 

***********************************************************

Governor Markieer stared at the data he'd received from all the bioscan units, matching them up with holocam footage and there was one in particular that didn't correlate. 

"Lieutenant Nerano!" he called.

Nerano pressed the door switch and entered the office. 

"Find out which office is linked with bioscan unit AA358."

"Yes, Sir."

************************************************************

With a sense of mounting panic Rorri Chitipek patted his tunic again, feeling for the data card his mother had handed to him. His hand found the square edge of the card and a sense of relief swept through him. He'd already checked that it was still there at least half a dozen times as he crawled slowly through a disused mine shaft. He didn't know how he was going to find Jamia. He wasn't even sure if that was her real name. But something in his mother's voice had told him this was the most important thing she'd ever asked him to do.

_"Find Jamia," she'd said. __"It's something she needs to have. Find her and give her this."_

_ _

His mother had been standing by the window of their apartment and she'd seen the stormtroopers coming. Quickly she'd gone to the safe and pulled out a data card.

"Rorri, we received this information yesterday. It looks as if we will not be able to hand it over ourselves. There is a bag packed for you. I would suggest you leave through the cellars."

"But…."

"No time, son."

"How did you know?"

"Your father sent me a signal; he was picked up from the factory. He thought they were going to come for me next, but we can't let them take you too." Tears sparkled in the violet eyes, but she blinked them back bravely. At least she'd had a little warning to say farewell to her only son. "We love you." Her lips trembled, but Lhinda Chitipek was a brave woman. "Now get out of here." She embraced him and smoothed the curl away from his forehead with a suddenly shaky hand. "May the Force be with you, Rorri. I cannot say for certain that we will meet again. I hope they just ask us a few questions and send us home, but this is the Empire and I know too well what their methods usually are."

He'd left as quickly as he could, all the time his heart pounding frantically in his chest. But he made it to the cellars without mishap and out into the pouring rain. No one gave the youth a second glance as he made his way towards Rorek's used speeder lot. It was the one place he'd always gone to as a child and he knew Rorek would know what to do. 

The place was deserted at this time of night. Most of the factories in this sector of the city had ceased production long ago. There were only one or two left and they were very poor. The rest of the factories were running double, even triple shifts to try and meet the Empire's demands for raw materials.

Rorri slunk across the pot-holed street, his grey cloak blending in with the drab surroundings, and found Rorek anxiously waiting, his yellowish face thin in the waning light of day.

"Thank the Force they didn't take you."

"My parents saw to that. Rorek, I have to get them out…"

The older man shook his head. "You cannot. It's an Imperial Garrison and they are readying themselves to start purges. We cannot risk any more people."

"But my father, my mother…"

"I know. Did they try to escape at all?" The question was straightforward and the look in Rorek's eyes told Rorri everything he didn't want to know. "Your father knew that this was going to happen.He was right and it does no good to deny it. Did they get it - the data?"

Rorri ran trembling hands over his tunic front for the umpteenth time. "Yes…"

"You are hopefully still carrying it?" he raised his eyebrows quizzically.

"Yes, it's here." Rorri patted his tunic carefully and watched as Rorek gave a big sigh of relief.

"Do you know what it is?" Rorri asked gravely. "My mother went white when my father sent her the data stream. She immediately copied it and put it in the safe. She didn't tell me what it said. When his signal came, she hugged me _so tightly and handed me the card. There is another copy somewhere, but I don't know where."_

"I don't know what it is either, but I knew your father had discovered something they were testing in one of the factory labs. A former employee copied some data and gave it to your father. That employee was arrested earlier today and your father only a few hours later, but it was enough time for him to get the data to your mother and now to you. Your parents knew the risk they were taking. They chose to do this and they want you to make your own choices. Make them the right ones."

"I understand and I chose to join them. I just didn't think it would be like this." Rorri's voice showed the pain of new maturity.

"We live in difficult and dangerous times. Ask Jamia sometime." 

"So now we wait?"

"We can't wait too long. If we don't hear from Jamia soon we'll have to try to contact her. Or get it out another way."

"Is that a problem?" Rorri queried. "She's one of us - a factory worker? How can she help us get the data out?"

Rorek rolled his eyes but, in a way, Rorri's ignorance was a good thing. Jamia's identity had been kept secure from all but one or two people and that was the best way. "No, Rorri. Jamia is an Imperial soldier. She works at the garrison."

"And we trust her?"

"Oh yes, we trust her. Your parents and I ran a very haphazard organisation until Jamia came to Triadon. She organised us and helped us get the equipment we needed and the codes to run them. She's a resourceful woman, but she's worried about her own security. I've been told to get her off Triadon and we might have to do the same for you too."

"Me - off Triadon?But I was born here."

"That means nothing. Do you want to die here?" He hustled the youth out of the office and into a turbo lift. "We'll wait in one of the lower level rooms."

"How long can we give her?"

"Only a few hours, Rorri. She's supposed to be on her way to see me tonight anyway - if I'm to get her offworld safely."

Rorek didn't tell Rorri that without Jamia's resourcefulness and the guile of Lhinda and Krupek he wasn't one hundred percent sure how he was going to accomplish that task.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 – Hidden Force Anna Hamilton Anna Hamilton 2 1 2001-11-12T23:20:00Z 2001-11-12T23:20:00Z 8 3000 17104 @Home 142 34 21004 9.2720 Disclaimer – the characters and the situations in this story are the property of Lucasfilm limited. I'm only borrowing them for a wee while to play with them. Chapter 8 – Hidden Force 

****

Page sat on the edge of the co-pilots chair, every muscle tense and his attention focused on the readouts from the navicomp. 

"Anything on the scopes?"

"Not so far," Char murmured, his head tails twitching. "We're in the right place, old man." He gave his friend a measured stare. "Should she have been out by now?"

"I don't know. She sent the signal ages ago, suppose we missed her? We can only wait another day at the most." He glanced at the Twilek. 

Char frowned. "Why is she so important?"

Page looked genuinely surprised for a moment. "I'm not sure… yet. But my gut instinct tells me she is. Lieutenant Maija is a very resourceful young woman. We don't have too many with her level of skills that we can afford to squander them needlessly. Especially now. We badly need every able alliance operative right now if the Rebellion is to stay alive." 

Added to that were one or two facts he'd dug out about her recently – some very well hidden ones too. The knowledge that she was Biggs Darklighter's cousin had merely startled him momentarily. She resembled him only in his devotion to duty to the Rebel Alliance and perhaps now that he knew about the connection – there was something in the curve of her jaw and the darkness of her hair. There was enough about this agent that made him want to find out more. Some areas in her background had thrown up complete dead ends. Enough to fool an Imperial investigative team perhaps?

"Could Hoth have been avoided?" Char wondered aloud.

The grave expression on the Twilek's face made Cullen wince with remembered pain. If he'd only been there he could have helped… but he'd been on the other side of the galaxy. He shook himself from his thoughts.

"I don't think so. It was inevitable the base would be found. We hoped we might have a bit longer, but it wasn't to be. A lot of good people lost their lives. The Empire threw a lot of resources into finding us. We should be flattered that they consider us such a threat" He shrugged wearily. "It was only two weeks ago. We still don't know how many people made it out alive. The first of the transport ships arrived at the rendezvous point just four days ago. That was the last thing I learned before coming out to you."

Still, one transport ship made it." The Twilek tried to lighten the mood."

"Yes and the others were supposedly not far behind."

Char frowned. "Then what?"

"We lost a lot of equipment - stuff we couldn't afford to lose - but that's war. Hoth base was existing on the edge as it was. First Derra IV and then Hoth cleaned us out in that sector. The worst part is that there has been no word from Princess Leia Organa. She got out on the Falcon with Solo, but they haven't been seen or heard of since." 

The Twilek whistled soundlessly.

And… No word from Luke either."

"That's not like him."

"No, but there's no sign of the Imps having captured him, so that is something. Cracken's monitored all the usual channels. If they'd even been a parsec from Luke, the General would have known about it."

"He keeps tabs on him?"

"Let us say that he tries to. Luke has ways of disappearing into trouble that even the best Alliance scouts cannot fathom. General Cracken tries to look out for all the Alliance leadership. Luke just finds situations easily." 

"Luke will come through. He always does. Stubborn as an inebriated yuzzum, that boy. " Char murmured reassuringly as he flicked a couple of switches on his console. All at once a beeping sound filled the cockpit.

Char moved the shuttle into a synchronous orbit with an uninhabited moon in the neighbouring system to the one containing Adon III. "We wait," he stated briefly. "You look exhausted Cullen. When was the last time you got some decent rest? I suggest you get some sleep. I'll keep watch."

Page rubbed a hand over his face wearily. "I'll take you up on that – thanks." He uncoiled himself slowly from the co-pilot's chair and made his way to the bunk at the back of the cockpit. "You'll wake me…"

Char nodded. "If anything happens – sure."

***********************

Nerano knew exactly where the anomalous bioscan readings had occurred. He didn't have to spend hours poring over data feeds and holo images. He gave a surreptitious glance at his boss's closed door before calling up the security logs attached to the garrison commander's office. Nothing tallied. The holo vids didn't correlate with the audio files. They were misleading, missing or even worse… scrambled. Nerano recognised level four encryption work when he saw it. It would take an expert at least a couple of days to break. It would take Nerano an awful lot longer. 

He pulled up the audio files and met with similar results. The recordings were poor. He scrutinised carefully a recording, which had Maija and Chaptor alone in her office. When he matched up the audio with the holo vid, he still was not any clearer, but he did see Maija pass something to Chaptor. It looked like a recording rod, but it could have been a slim line holofile or a data rod.

He sat back in his chair expelling a frustrated sigh. He knew he'd proved something. Maija was a Rebel agent and so was Cul Chaptor. She'd clearly passed something to him and then he'd disappeared, never to be seen again. That was more than enough evidence. Add to that all the tampered files and a picture was emerging. The only person who had access to all of these corrupted files, apart from the Commander and the Governor… For an instant Nerano considered them and then dismissed the idea as ridiculous. He was getting paranoid. No, the only one with all the proper codes and the ability coupled with the best Imperial training… was Maija. 

So what was he going to do now? His automatic response should be to go into the Governor's office and tell him what he suspected – yet he hesitated. His mind harkened back to the small family of aliens being deported from the planet simply for belonging to a different species and the unnecessary execution of the father, the dreary and depressed population toiling in terrible conditions for no reward. Was Maija right and he, wrong? His mind whirled; suddenly thoughts were flying through his head… treasonous thoughts. No, he firmly halted his wayward feelings. He was an Imperial soldier – he had to do his duty. Nerano got slowly to his feet, his legs heavy and unwilling to move. Perhaps if he talked to Maija - persuaded her to turn herself in. Give the names of the other agents on Triadon. Yes – he grasped at the idea. Talk to her - make her see she was wrong.

Resolutely he got to his feet, glancing once again at his superior's office. He would find out for sure and then he would let the Governor know. It was his duty as an Imperial soldier.

**************************** 

Rorek glanced furtively at his wrist chrono once again while Rorri kept an anxious look on the rapidly darkening sky.

"What do we do if she doesn't come?" the boy whispered, his white face drawn in the dimly lit office.

"She'll come," Rorek tried to reassure. He hadn't the faintest idea what to do if she didn't. There was no way he could get off Triadon and with Rorri. The Stormtroopers were bound to be looking for him too, by now.

Rorri heard it first, his keen ears picking up the muffled sound of a carefully driven engine. "I hear something." He was on his feet and out of the building before the older man could urge him to caution.

Rorek let out the breath he'd been holding for what seemed like hours and, with a deeply felt sigh, made his way outside. It had to be Jamia. The Imperials would have no need of such stealth. The lights of the speeder flashed on and off in sequence. Rorek activated the gates and the vehicle coasted gently to a stop. Maija extricated herself, her expression blank.

"I have a problem." Her face and bearing tensed, as she opened her mouth…

With a dull thud, the limp body of Franjeer Nerano tumbled out of the vehicle and lay half in the mud. 

"Help me! For sith's sake." Maija muttered fiercely, trying to pull Nerano out of the speeder, or push him back in, she wasn't sure which. He was far too big for her to move on her own.

For the first time since he had known her, Rorek suddenly realised that Jamia was as young as Rorri and, in this instance, she was as frightened as he was but was valiantly trying to cover up that fact. The faint air of unaccustomed panic surrounded her slim frame. How old was she? Nineteen… twenty? What kind of people put children into these situations?

Rorri gulped loudly, his face whitening even further than it had been previously. Despite working for the cell he'd still been sheltered from war's brutality. "Is he… Is he… Dead?"

Maija shivered and turned her face away from the body of the large man still wedged awkwardly half in and half out of the vehicle. "No… he's just stunned."

"We're in trouble," Rorri breathed. "Big trouble."

"You've just realised that now?" Maija's voice was sharp as she tried to master her fear. "What did you think we were doing before? This is war, Rorri – grow up. We're not playing anymore. I never had time to play…" She made a disgusted sound and swung away, clenching her fists. "Look, I need access to your computer. I have to send a signal. I've exploded my cover and my portable data reader. It's vital I send a signal or we're all as good as dead."

"Did you have to take him with you?" Rorek's voice interrupted grimly, indicating the unconscious figure of Nerano.

"I had no choice. Look, I'll explain later." Her voice was terse. "Secure him, please."

Rorri shrugged, but warily checked Nerano out before putting binders on his wrists and with Rorek's help dragged him clear of the speeder and into the office.

"The comm Centre is set up two levels down. I hadn't time to do a proper strip-down and restore."

"Will it function?"

The affronted expression on Rorri's face was almost comical. "Of course it will."

"Come on then." She glanced at the recumbent figure of Nerano. "Better take him with us."

They made the trip down to the lower levels in silence. Maija stood, her face shuttered, ignoring any attempts Rorek made to catch her eye.

"Attach his binders to that metal conduit over there. It should be strong enough to hold him." She looked around for the comms as Rorek affixed the cuffs to the conduit.

Rorri ran towards the equipment spilling out of durasteel boxes. "Here," he gabbled nervously.

For the first time Maija met his stare and nodded before turning towards the screen and the microphone. With nimble fingers she tapped out a coded sequence into the keypad in front of her and was rewarded with a short burst of static and a high-pitched whine. "Omega Signal… plus two." She spoke rapidly into the receiver. "Come on," she urged. "Answer me."

"Omega Signal plus two."

"Sandstorm…?" The comm crackled to life, the tinny voice loud in the silence of the underground room. Both men jumped.

"Where in the force have you been?"

"Good to hear from you too," Maija bit out irritably. "We have a major problem. I don't want to broadcast for too long. They're probably tracking any transmissions, but my cover has gone. Two of our ops have been arrested leaving their son and another contact in hiding."

"You know where?"

"They're here, with me and so is Nerano. I had to stun him."

The sound of a few colourful curses echoed round the chamber. "Can you get to us?" the tinny voice asked. "I'll transmit the co-ordinates."

"They have the spaceport sealed because they've started purges. It may be difficult."

"Is there a defence grid in operation?"

Maija gave a small smile. "Only around the spaceport and the industrial heart of the city." Her tired eyes brightened a little and she tapped something into a data pad before handing it to Rorek. "You've just provided us with an escape route, I hope."

Rorek tapped in a set of co-ordinates on the data pad, checked it with Rorri, who nodded and added another set, before handing it back to Maija. "These might work. It's not far from here, but we have to double back towards the edge of the security perimeter."

Rorri nodded in agreement. "We might have to blow a couple of overhead securicams and there is a manned defence station fairly near. It used to be the site of one of the biggest factories about twenty years ago. It was so big it even had it's own space dock. It's a wasteland now, like most of this sector."

"In other words, it is open enough for a ship to land."

"Yeah, but will it get out?" Maija surveyed the faces of the two men in front of her and made her decision. "We've no other choice. We'll have to risk it."

"What about him?" Rorri indicated the supine figure of Nerano.

"What about him?" Maija returned a little defensively.

"What are we going to do with him?" Rorri's tone was hostile.

"We'll have to kill him?" Rorek tried to sound fierce, but his hands trembled. He'd never killed in cold blood before, not even as part of the Triadon Rebel Cell.

"We're not killing him," Maija snapped back. "He's my friend…" She bit her lip uncertainly. "_Was_ my friend. I can't kill him. He didn't kill me and he could have. He could have turned me in…" she gazed at Nerano's awkwardly sprawled form.

_"Sandstorm?"_ Page's voice sounded impatient.

"Sorry," she murmured her mind on the task at hand once more. "Can you get to us?"

"I have new data," interrupted Rorri suddenly. "My mother gave it to me. She said it was urgent, but I don't know what it is. I haven't viewed it yet." He patted his tunic.

Maija placed her hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. "It'll be alright, Rorri," she reassured, suddenly calm again. "We'll get the information to the people who will know what to do with it." Her voice urgent, once more Maija repeated into the comm., "Can you get to us at these co-ordinates?"

_"We'll be there."_

"How long?"

_"How long do you need to get to the co-ordinates?"_ The disembodied voice asked.

"At the most an hour. Can you get there in that time?" Maija quizzed carefully.

"_Should do, we're in orbit around Praxis Moon."_

"Be careful."

_"You're telling me that!"_

"Sorry," Maija gave an unwilling chuckle. "So you came to make sure I got out safely then?"

_"We need every one we have. See you."_

"Yeah… See you. Sandstorm, out!" She stared into space for a moment, still chewing on her lip, then snapped back with her usual briskness. "Right! You both heard that. We need to get moving. Get your things. Take as little as you have to. We can't transport very much – it would only hamper our movements. Basic essentials – nothing more."

Rorri held up the bag his mother had packed for him – was it only that morning? Rorek pulled a carryall from a cupboard and methodically packed various bits and pieces, while Maija turned back to the computer and rapidly tapped a string of commands into it.

"Port security need to have a few distractions when our lift out of here flies in to collect us." She gave the two men a dry smile. "The security satellites will suddenly go off line at about the time that we have some heavy duty meteor activity."

Rorek chuckled. "Rorri could programme some tactical instrument fluctuations if you access the codes for him."

"Will it take long?"

Rorri shook his head. "I have a data file just ready to download into their systems. It might not hide our rescue for long, but it will surely distract any one looking for one."

Maija considered the idea quickly. "Do it, then move away from the equipment."

Rorri quickly tapped in his data then, mystified, moved to the back of the room.

Maija cut the connection, pulled her blaster from her holster and fired several shots into the heart of the equipment. The holo screen shattered and several components erupted in a shower of hissing sparks. Rorri's mouth dropped open in shock. 

"No-o-!"

"I have to destroy it."

Rorek grabbed Rorri's shoulders and held him back as Maija ruthlessly finished the job. "She's right, son. Let her do it. We can't leave it for the Imps to find."

"But…" He shook in the older man's grasp. "My parents…"

Maija inserted a fresh power pack into her clip and returned it to her belt. "Would have done the same. You know it." She looked at the unsalvageable equipment. "I'm sorry, Rorri." The sympathy faded from her gaze. "Do we have any thermal detonators?"

Rorek let go Rorri's shoulders and walked to a small cupboard. Pulling a key from a chain on his neck, he unlocked it and indicated to Maija she should take what she wanted. There was a good array of weaponry and explosives stored there.

"Take as much as you can carry. You too, Rorri. We may need it. Rorek can you set a charge? This place has to be destroyed. We'll give ourselves about an hour to get well away. It shouldn't cause too loud an explosion this far down."

"There is no need, Maija. Lhinda and Krupek already have a self-destruct system installed in many of the places we used. I only need to activate it."

"Good," she replied grimly.

"What…" Rorri's face showed complete shock. "You want to use the self-destruct, but what if we need…" His face blanched. "We won't be coming back ever – will we?"

"Give me your hand, son."

"Eh?"

"Give me your hand, Rorri." Rorek repeated patiently. 

"Why?"

"Put it here," he instructed as he pushed aside a panel next to the turbolift. "The self-destruct code is sequenced to your genetic markers. Only you can activate it."

Rorri let his hand sweep over the panel and with a clicking sound, the lights changed from blue to red.

"Self-destruct in one hour," the female computer voice intoned dully just as Franjeer Nerano groaned slowly into consciousness.

**************************************** 

Governor Markieer filled his beaker with caf and took a generous swig, wincing when the too hot liquid burned his tongue. '_Damn!'_ he swore to himself, but his mind concentrated on the contents of the pad in front of him. The Analysis Bureau was sending investigators. Of course they had spies on Triadon. They were producing industrial components and processing raw materials for the Imperial war machine. Only a simpleton would have expected the Rebellion to passively sit by. Up until six months ago he'd been on top of the situation. Now things had spun wildly out of his control. Whoever had taken charge of the Rebellion's activities on Triadon had proved to be very effective. They were closing in on him or her, but too slowly for his peace of mind. It was just the last thing he needed… these people arriving from Coruscant thinking they knew everything there was to know about his situation.

Flicking a switch he spoke into his com. "Lieutenant Nerano, report!"

"Lieutenant Nerano has gone out, Sir. This is Brakston."

"Where has he gone?"

"He said he had to check some data at the garrison."

"Without telling me he was going? Most strange," he said, slowly rubbing his tired eyes.

"Do you know what data he was going to check on?"

"Something to do with the training exercise you set us, Sir. The one about searching for infiltrators."

"Training exercise!" Markieer echoed in surprise.

"Yes, Sir."

"Contact Commander Fariu and tell him I want to speak to him."

"Yes, Sir."

Markieer leant back in his chair, his expression grave. Something wasn't correct here.

"Sir!" The secretary's voice echoed through the com speaker.

"Yes! You've contacted the Commander?"

"Yes and no, Sir."

"Explain!" he barked shortly.

"The Commander can't be contacted. He reported feeling unwell several times over the last day or two and was finally seen by the medical droid earlier today. The medic prescribed him a sedative. He's asleep in his quarters, Sir."

"You've checked?"

"Of course, Sir." The voice took on an affronted tone.

"Damn!" Markieer swore quietly to himself. "Who's in charge?"

"Commander Filps, I believe. He checked the status of Commander Fariu himself not too long ago when I asked and confirmed that the Commander _is_ in his quarters asleep."

There was silence for a moment and then Markieer sighed. "When Lieutenant Nerano returns I want to speak to him in my office."

Brakston gave an affirmative and returned without much enthusiasm to his statistics. First a weird training exercise and then the Governor asking strange questions. If such things ever happened, which was highly unlikely on Triadon of all places, he thought he might have just landed in the middle of a Rebel plot. But Triadon had to be the most boring planet anyone ever had the misfortune to be stationed upon. Still, he reflected idly, his next posting should be more prestigious.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hidden Force by Ash Darklighter**

**Chapter 9**

**Disclaimer: The characters and situations used in this story are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd. I am just playing with them for a while.**

**Governor's Residence**

An hour went by and then another. The Governor glanced at his chrono impatiently and then flicked a switch on his desk. "Has Lieutenant Nerano returned yet?"

"No, sir." His secretary's voice was crisp and assured, just the way he liked his staff to be.

"Where is he?"

"We don't know. He did say he would only be away for an hour or so."

"Contact the garrison; I want to speak to Commander Filips."

"Yes, Governor. Putting you through now, sir."

"Thank you." Markieer sat down in his chair and called up his view screen, but instead of Fariu's second in command, the round face and wide eyes of one of the minor aides greeted him.

"This is Brakston, sir."

"Yes, Brakston." Markieer reigned in his mounting irritation. "I do know who you are. Where is Commander Filips?"

"You do… uh… Governor, sir. We have a few problems over here and the Commander is dealing with them right now."

Markieer stopped dead. "Problems?" There was a dangerous undercurrent in his voice. Brakston wasn't stupid and recognised it immediately.

"Yes, sir. All of our systems are behaving very strangely and we've had word from Imperial Intelligence that there have been unauthorised transmissions made from the planet. Files have been hacked into. Top secret ones. Alarms go off on Coruscant itself…"

"I know what happens," Markieer muttered stiffly, halting Brakston's nervous babble. "Get me Commander Filips in front of a view screen now and get the sedatives flushed out of Commander Fariu. Have him wide awake and ready to meet me when I get to the garrison. I don't care how much his head is aching."

The screen went dark momentarily and then the red face of Filips appeared. He'd obviously been hurrying as he puffed to steady his breathing. "I'm sorry, Governor. What can I do…"

"You can tell me why I wasn't contacted sooner about these problems."

"Problems… There are no…"

"Don't lie to me," Markieer snapped.

Filips shuffled awkwardly in his seat. "Governor," he tried a more conciliatory tone. "These are minor fluctuations in the security grid. We'll have everything back on line in no time."

"Fluctuations? In the security grid?"

"Something to do with an atmospheric meteor shower… apparently."

"I'm on my way!" Markieer got to his feet. "You're a fool. This is all some rebel trick to distract us. Something's going on."

"Commander Filips!" Brakston's anxious voice could be heard in the background.

"Not now, Brakston!" Filips brushed him off.

"But the Governor will want to know."

Markieer swung around and glared at Filips. "The 'Governor will want to know' what?"

"The med droid can't waken Commander Fariu. He's practically in a coma."

"I'm coming across and I want the garrison put immediately on high alert." Markieer's rage at the incompetents he was stuck with rose and he stabbed his finger downwards cutting the connection.

*********************************************************

**Imperial Garrison, Triadon**

The frightened aide backed up several paces. "Sir!" he managed to squeak. He'd never seen the governor so furious before. Of course he'd seen him angry but this time, his fury was deadly cold and far more frightening.

"Who ordered the Commander's sedatives?"

"I… I don't know. Commander Fariu had been complaining about feeling unwell all morning, Sir."

"Find out." Markieer was seething. If this was allowed to continue his own promising Imperial career was finished. They had major security leaks of galactic importance, Imperial intelligence on its way and no one was effectively running the garrison. The Commander had been sedated with far more than his normal dose for a mere tension headache. "The Commander's sleeping draught could fell a full grown ronto for a week. He's been moved to sickbay because they can't awaken him."

The aide returned quickly. "It isn't exactly clear who arranged for the medicine, Sir. But Lieutenant Darklighter was the only one of the Commander's senior aides on duty at the time. She is his primary aide. She will know."

"I want to see her now."

"She's off duty."

"An imperial soldier is never off duty."

"Yes, Sir. I'll contact her at once."

"No – don't contact her," he murmured thoughtfully staring at a pad Nerano had left on his desk at government headquarters. "Send a team to her rooms to escort her to the Commander's office."

"You think that Lieutenant Darklighter…? Yes, Sir." The aide saluted quickly and almost ran from the office.

The Governor sighed. He was surrounded by incompetence and treachery. The data contained on that pad indicated that Nerano was currently investigating the woman he wanted to see. 

Switching on the computer, he brought up the files of the staff closest to Commander Fariu. Lieutenant Darklighter's record was exemplary but all the evidence pointed to her as the probable traitor in their midst. He tapped some commands into the computer and brought up some of his own files. Nerano's information coupled with his own made interesting reading – very interesting. He knew now that Chaptor had been a spy. The real Lieutenant Chaptor had been dead for six months. Yes, the man masquerading in the dead soldier's place had been an agent sent to liaison with in someone in this very office. There was only one person who had the training and the background.

Now he had to make an example of a rebel sympathiser. There was no doubt in his mind that Darklighter was probably one. She had access to all the files and the information. Switching on the com unit he barked, "Nerano!" He was surely back by now - it had been over four hours ago.

Nothing – no reply.

Grinding his teeth with irritation he flicked another switch. "This is the Governor. Could you page Lieutenant Nerano? He is due to report to me now." He knew Nerano was somewhere around. The man had been on his staff for over a year and took his duties very seriously. 

The voice on the desk nervously answered, "I was just about to contact you on this matter. The lieutenant should have checked in an hour ago. It is very unlike him to be late. We cannot locate him anywhere in the building."

"Damn!"

The aide coughed timidly. "Neither can we locate Lieutenant Darklighter. She is also not present in the building. We have just checked her quarters and some of her possessions are missing."

"Check Lieutenant Nerano's rooms." Markieer let his head droop for a moment. Nerano couldn't be a spy too – could he?

"Yes, Sir."

Markieer got up from Fariu's desk and began to pace. He couldn't believe they'd all been so careless. He'd thought the security was reliable. Yes, there had been problems of late but they'd checked and tightened security many times and had still found nothing. He was quite familiar with the quiet assistant to Commander Fariu. She'd been investigated repeatedly as had all soldiers in her type of position and had always passed whatever clearance levels were required for whatever post she had covered. He wandered back to the desk and checked her file once more. 'From a planet on the Outer rim, parents dead…' His breath quickened. Where had her parents been killed? His answer flashed before him on the monitor. 'Parents killed on _Alderaan. Of course, they had been killed when the Death Star had destroyed the planet.' _

Had she undergone a psych test at that time? If she had, there was no record of it. In fact her Imperial service record was spotless – absolutely perfect. 

Such things were possible but he was usually suspicious. He read on.

She had even served a stint on the _Executor helping to set up computer systems before attending the diplomatic training centre on Coruscant. Markieer read the rest of the file. 'At present working on a twelve month placement on Triadon before returning to Imperial Centre to take up a diplomatic post.'_

This female was on a fast track. It proved she had ability because only the best achieved the placement at the diplomatic centre. How much ability did she really have, he wondered?

He typed 'Darklighter' into the database and froze as reams of information began showing on the monitor. She'd had a cousin, one of the top cadets in his year who had defected to the Rebellion. Things were not exactly adding up but there were pointers. Someone should have looked at her file a little more carefully. The Outer Rim had long been a breeding ground for rebel traitors. Her parents had worked on Alderaan which had fostered the art of treachery and, finally, a close relative had defected to the Rebellion. 

The com unit buzzed.

"Yes?"

"Lieutenant Nerano's quarters are undisturbed. All his things are there."

"Just not him," mused the Governor slowly. 

"We found a highly sophisticated piece of computer equipment in Darklighter's quarters."

"Interesting, but no help to me."

"But it was completely fried, Sir. Something very powerful blew all its circuits. We're bringing it back with us so the techs can examine it. There is highly advanced circuitry in this piece of equipment."

"Good work." He pressed a switch and transferred to another channel. "Has the Commander regained consciousness yet?"

"No, Sir. He's still out." 

Markieer bit off a curse and continued looking at the misplaced files. He had a feeling that he was too late. He just hoped that his aide, Nerano wasn't part of this. He didn't think he was and, consequently, he was concerned about the man's disappearance. Imperial officers didn't just disappear. Nerano had been at the Academy the same time as Darklighter. Could they be in this together? It was possible but something told him no. Further enquiries found that Nerano and Darklighter had been spending time together but also that Nerano had been investigating Darklighter's movements around the city. So, perhaps his aide had discovered the woman's treachery and was waiting for the correct moment to expose her. He hoped that would be now. That's what became of having women in the service.

He couldn't wait any longer and moved to the outer office. "Sound the alarm. We need to search the city."

"Yes, Sir." 

"I'm heading to sickbay to check on the Commander."

The office staff lifted their heads from whatever they were doing and stared at him like a herd of bewildered banthas.

"We have a security leak here!" He exploded with rage at their inactivity. But he was dealing with soldiers who had been transferred away from the centre of the Empire for obvious reasons – ineptitude. "I take it you do not want to be cannon fodder?" His face reddened. "Get moving. I want results here." Markieer stormed from the office.

*******************************

"Governor?"

Markieer lifted his head from the security changes he was about to implement in the medical centre to protect the Commander who was still unconscious. "Yes?"

"It's about Lieutenant Nerano, Sir."

"Go on."

"One of the speeders is missing and just beside it we found evidence of what looks like a scuffle. We also found his rank cylinder bar."

"But he's a big man and she's quite small…"

"The techs have a theory, Sir."

"Techs always do. Enlighten me."

"It looks as if a large object was dragged and then loaded into a waiting vehicle. She could have stunned him and then…"

"Yes," Markieer sighed. "Thank you."

"There were only two sets of footprints. There is no sign of them."

"I didn't think there would be any sign of them but they must still be on planet." He turned his head as another soldier came running into the office, "What?" he barked.

The aide was almost trembling. "A virus has been introduced into some of the spaceport tracking systems. We cannot tell if any extra ships have landed to transport off planet or not. We don't think anything has arrived. The troops at the spaceport haven't reported any craft arriving or leaving in the past three hours. But the scanners have ceased to function, Sir."

Markieer's lips had gone white with suppressed rage. "They won't come in to the spaceport of course. It's being watched. Is there anywhere else nearby that a ship could land?"

"I… don't know."

"Well find out, damn it!"

*************************************************

Nerano groaned faintly. His head was throbbing and his limbs ached. He'd fallen asleep at his desk again, hadn't he? Not quite what he imagined as a cadet - an Imperial soldier with a desk job. His visions of glorious battles had been filed away for the moment but he knew they would come.

"He's awake."

The voice belonged to a young man holding a powerful looking blaster and, whoever he was, he was nervous. The anxiety quickened his voice.

'Awake?' Nerano tried shifting and found that he could only twitch a little. His hands and feet seemed to be bound. With another groan he tried to twist around but moving sent darting tingles through his stiff limbs. "Aahh!" he sighed as the darts became needles. His head felt thick and sluggish but he was catching on to one fact fast. He was bound hand and foot and he'd been hit with a stun bolt of some description. He remembered the effects from his training days at Raithal.

"Self destruct activated," an impersonal computer-generated female voice intoned in the background. "The facility will destruct in one hour."

Nerano came fully awake and tried to sit up. He realised that he was shackled to some sort of heating unit which thankfully, was cold. With effort, he forced his eyes to focus on the object nearest to him – a pair of dusty, black, imperial issue boots.

"I'm sorry, Franjeer," Maija said softly. "It's nothing personal."

Nerano moistened his dry lips. "I tried to stop you from leaving the base."

"Yes."

"And you stunned me."

"I couldn't let you stop me. My cover has been blown and it was time to get out. There's too much at stake here. Things are happening all over the galaxy and you've always been too blinded by your uniform to notice."

"So you _are a Rebel. There have been clues all along and I foolishly ignored them." He spat disgustedly on the floor beside her feet. "After all that the Empire has done for you. This is how you repay it?"_

"The Empire took me away from my family and ultimately killed them."

"That's a lie," he croaked.

"No." Maija's face was cold and set. "My parents died on Alderaan and the Empire built the battle station that destroyed it. An entire world, Franjeer. Someone pressed a button and million upon millions died and for what?"

"Because Alderaan was building weapons…"

"Alderaan had no weapons."

"Alderaan was full of terrorists."

Maija gave a scornful laugh. "Force, you really swallowed all the crap they fed us at Raithal. The Death Star would have destroyed more than Alderaan…" She shook her head pityingly. "In fact it did destroy more than Alderaan. The battle station was built by prisoners from a penal colony on a world called Despayre. That was the Death Star's first successful strike."

"If your rebel friends hadn't destroyed it instead. They're as bad."

"No… The Death Star destroyed the world on which it was built. They used slave labour to build it and once it was finished they blew them all away. Then they wanted somewhere to test it and they chose Alderaan. They wanted to show what they had. Fear keeps a lot of people in line."

"That's not true!" His mind returned to the little alien family he'd seen and how they'd been treated.

"Oh, yes," Maija said. "Prisoners of the state, alien undesirables… just gone in a heartbeat or shipped to the spice mines on Kessel or the slave mines on Alzoc III."

A quiet voice murmured, "She's telling the truth."

Nerano squinted up to find a thin, older man in a shapeless brown tunic standing watching him and behind him a boy. No, he was a young man. Must be about nineteen or twenty – Maija's age, there or thereabouts. "You're a rebel too. Of course you're going to say that."

"Believe what you want, son," the old man murmured gently. "But from where I'm standing the Empire hasn't done anything for me. Do I look so dangerous to your eyes?"

Rorri interrupted Rorek by bursting into sneering speech. He could not contain himself any longer. "The Empire is destroying my world," he laughed bitterly. "The Death Star was perhaps a quicker, more impressive method of destroying a planet but the Empire is managing to kill Triadon without a super weapon. This planet is irretrievably poisoned. The mining techniques the Empire has introduced, without precautions, is turning this world uninhabitable. In a few years we will not be able to live safely on it. Already the people are sick. The crops won't grow, the animals can't live…"

Nerano struggled to justify his faith in the Empire. "The raw materials are important. You are helping the Empire towards glorious victory."

Rorri's eyes blazed. "Listen to yourself spouting propaganda. Are you so brainwashed that you cannot see the truth?"

"He always was a loyal soldier," Maija's voice was soft. "It's the way he was trained. He cannot help it."

"That's no help to us when our people are dying. The rain that falls is already acid."

"It's always been like that here," Nerano muttered.

Rorek shook his head. "No, it once was a green and beautiful world. This part of the city was always industrialised, but nothing like this wasteland. The rapid deterioration happened when the Empire began the mining experiments."

"And what about my parents!" Rorri shouted suddenly, the pain on his face heartrending. "They've been rounded up. Taken from their home… from me."

"Purges." Maija's voice held a weary finality.

"Self-destruct in fifty minutes." The computer chose that moment to remind them.

"We have to hurry, Jamia," Rorek said.

"I have to change," Maija mumbled.

"Clothes are through there."

Maija nodded and disappeared.

"Rorri…" Rorek gently touched the youth on the shoulder. Stop glaring at our… visitor. He hasn't done us any harm."

"He's one of them," the boy spat, hatred darkening his face.

Nerano was taken aback at the loathing the young man held him in. He had thought that everyone wanted to be part of the Empire. Again, Nerano was seeing that not everyone agreed with what the Emperor wanted to do. He'd thought that dissidents and terrorists were somehow mentally sick, but the sheer ordinariness of the man and the boy were making him question what he had learned.

"Rorri," Maija's voice was calm. "He is a good man, just misguided."

They all turned towards her and Nerano noted that she had changed from her uniform into a black tunic and pants with a warm cloak and hood covering her hair. 

"You have your uniform?" Rorek asked. "Genetic material?"

Maija nodded and pulled down her hood. She'd cut at least a foot off the end of her hair. "It was getting too long," she said with a tired grin. "Will that do? I do have a bag with nail clippings…"

Rorri frowned. "What for?"

"I'll tell you later." She gave Nerano an anxious look.

"Self-destruct in forty minutes."

"We have to go."

"I'm not going anywhere," Nerano bit out angrily.

"Then you die." Maija said coldly. "Untie his feet, but not his hands and keep the gun on him."

Rorek carefully disentangled Nerano from the heating conduit and untied his legs. "Get up."

Nerano stood up and felt Maija's pistol in the small of his back. "This time, it's not set to stun."

"You won't get away with this," Nerano warned.

"Maybe not, but we're going to try. Hurry up."

"Self destruct in thirty-five minutes."

"Move, Nerano," Maija instructed in her best parade ground voice and the Imperial soldier found that feet so used to following orders complied.

Rorek ran ahead and began to warm up the skyhopper. Nerano found himself pushed into the back with a grimly staring Rorri gripping on to his blaster. Nerano sighed. There was no chance of an escape here. One wrong move and the boy would blast him.

"There's not a lot of room." Rorri whispered.

"Doesn't matter."

"Drive, Jamia?"

The vehicle shot from its hiding place and headed to the south of the city. "Sithspawn!" Maija swore.

"What is it?" Rorek whispered.

"Patrols – up ahead. I should have guessed they'd be looking for me by now. Probably missed Nerano too."

Rorek peered at the navmap. "Take a left here and then twist around the end of that causeway over there. We should miss the patrol."

Her heart hammering inside her chest, Maija swung the vehicle away from the patrol and guided by Rorek's knowledge of the city outskirts drove them towards the old factory landing site.

"There they are!" Rorek shouted.

It was an old freighter, but by the way it swooped down to the landing pitch, it had been upgraded in the engine department. Rorek gave an admiring whistle.

"Everyone out," Maija barked. "And hurry." She picked up several bags, handing them to Rorri. "Up the ramp. It's opening."

"Are you sure this will work?" Rorek asked worriedly. 

"I have no choice," she whispered. "Just make sure Rorri gets on board first." 

"I will," he muttered.

She held on to her uniform. "I've wrapped everything inside it… my hair…"

"You have to let go of the detonator and then run."

"I'll drop it with my uniform as I leave the ship." 

Rorek suddenly noticed that Rorri had paused and wasn't yet aboard the ramp of the freighter and was waiting for him. "Go on Rorri, we're just behind you," he shouted to the youth. He gave Maija a quick nod and raced after Rorri as fast as his legs could take him.

The ship hadn't even landed and yet the access ramp had opened. Nerano glimpsed a figure pulling Rorri and then Rorek on board. Then he realised that the ship wouldn't land. It didn't have the time.

"I can't let you do this," Nerano said. "Give up, Maija. You'll only get caught and they will too. Is that what you want?"

"You can't stop me." She turned to go.

"Darklighter…"

"I can't kill you," she whispered. "That would make me as bad as them."

"Give yourself up, Maija," Nerano tried again. "The Empire would be lenient. You must have information that could save you."

"Of course I do, but in saving me it would kill me. It would go against everything I ever believed in. Why don't _you_ come with us, Franjeer? I know you have doubts."

"I do," he admitted painfully. "But not enough of them. I can't believe that your side is any better than my own."

"Then we are at an impasse," Maija said sadly. "Can you do one thing for me if you can?"

Nerano pressed his lips together neither agreeing to nor rejecting her request.

"Rorri's parents were rounded up in the latest set of arrests. If you could get them out? They are innocent in all of this," she added the small lie. "He's only a boy. He got involved with this because he thought it could save his world. It cannot. Lhinda and Krupek Chitipek. If you can? I know it will be difficult…"

"Maija…"

"I will not kill you, but you have to understand. To save them," she indicated the still hovering ship, "I must die." Then with a shaking hand, Maija raised her blaster pistol and shot Nerano cleanly in the chest. "Forgive me," she murmured, pressing something into his palm and dashing from the vehicle. Dropping the bundle of clothes she carried on the ground, she closed her eyes, murmured a quick plea for the Force to be with her and dropped a class two thermal detonator amongst them. 

Rorri watching anxiously from the ramp gave a shrill cry as scarlet flame erupted around the skyhopper's ramp. "Maija!"

**********************************************

"Sir!" the aide shouted. "Over there…"

The fire burned brightly in the darkening gloom of evening drawing their attention to it. Already several storm troopers were running towards a small skyhopper which listed drunkenly to one side, flames licking at its nose and alongside the half open ramp.

Governor Markieer stepped from his covered speeder and looked around at the depressing, dilapidated surroundings. "What was this place?"

"A private hangar bay for one of the factories."

"You mean - this place had a cleared space launch permit?"

"Yes. It lightened the traffic at the spaceport."

"Was it revoked?"

The aide tapped into a data pad. "No," he muttered. "I'm afraid it wasn't."

"Vader's black mask!" swore Markieer. "That means a ship could have sneaked in this way." He clicked on his comlink. "Check all exit vectors from this position. I think we have a vessel outgoing. We check all extant permits and cancel them all. From now on nothing leaves this planet without my knowledge."

Suddenly one of the troopers involved in extinguishing the blaze that had drawn their attention to the burning vessel, gave a shout and pointed.

"What is it?" Markieer asked the Sergeant.

"There's a body lying inside the rebel vehicle."

"A body?" Markieer began to run.

The white clad stormtrooper spoke rapidly into his comlink. "It's Lieutenant Nerano and he's alive!"

"Alive…"

"He's unconscious and he has some burns to his body. We got here just in time. There's also some remains… looks like a thermal detonator did the damage." He picked up something lying on the ground and handed it to his superior. 

Markieer rubbed the soot away from the warped piece of melted plasti. The rank cylinder of Maija Darklighter.

"There are pieces of uniform and stuff, but it looks as if she was consumed by the detonator."

Markieer frowned. It was all a little too convenient, but these detonators left very little evidence amongst piles of melted metal. "Check for any genetic material. If she was killed, then there should be evidence."

"Yes, Sir."

"He's alive?"

"Yes, but if we'd been any later the fire would have…"

Markieer watched as the prone body of Franjeer Nerano was carried out of the burning vehicle. He had suffered some quite serious burns as the fire on the ship had taken hold, but the most interesting thing was the thermal detonator still clutched in his hand. Despite being shackled and stunned Nerano had probably killed the Imperial spy. He would certainly get a promotion for this.

But it wasn't over yet. They had a ship to catch – if there was one?

"Sir!" one of the troops called, pointing to a blackened area of duracrete. "Discolouration probably from exhaust fumes and this is newly done."

"So something did land here." He looked up at the sky. "Get the fighters up to stop them." But privately he had his doubts. A few minutes in a ship with a souped up engine could have them too far out of reach.

***********************************

"Maija!" Rorri's voice echoed in the empty cargo bay.

"It's okay, Rorri."

"What is she doing, apart from trying to kill herself?" Cullen Page leapt down the ramp and with a deep breath reached through the flames and pulled Maija away from the skyhopper and up the ramp of the ship.

"Thanks," she gasped.

"That was a little drastic, Lieutenant." Page murmured dryly. "Char!" he shouted. "Close the ramp and get us out of here," he yelled. "Hold on!"

Rorri and Rorek took Maija to the passenger area and carefully strapped themselves into seats as the ship gave a lurch and accelerated upwards. After a few moments, Rorek handed Maija a medipack.

"Here," he said gently. "Your face…"

"I'll do it, she whispered. "Look after Rorri; he's just left the only home he's ever known. He'll be in shock."  
  


"What about you?"

"I got a little toasted back there. I'll be okay."

"You got more than toasted, Maija."

"I don't feel anything," she said. It was true, she felt totally numb. "We discussed it. I had to stay in the flames for as long as I could stand."

"Well, as long as you're alright," Rorek said doubtfully.

"I will be. Now I'm where I belong."

Page tapped her on the arm and frowned when she paled. "Come on, we need you up front."

"Of course," she muttered, her eyes stricken as she peered out the viewport at the burning remains of the skyhopper.

"He'll be okay!"

"I didn't want to hurt him."

"He wasn't going to change sides. His training has been too thorough."

"I know, but for a moment I thought he might have come with us. He has doubts. I know he has."

"To be a committed part of the Rebellion you have to have than just doubts, Maija."

"Cullen, get yourself up here!" Char shouted urgently.

"Come on, we need to get out of here. They're not that stupid and will figure out where we are eventually. They will be scrambling fighters and will want to destroy us. They don't care about prisoners." Page headed for the cockpit at a run.

Maija followed him as fast as she could. "The boy has information. I don't know what it is."

"I'm not a boy. I'm the same age as you." Rorri shouted defiantly after the two rebels. "I sent the system virus we created. It should give us a bit of time."

"Could he man a gun?"

Rorri bristled. "Of course I can. My parents saw to it that I knew how to."

"Good." Page's voice was clipped. "Come on, Maija."

She gulped. "Okay." But as she left for the cockpit she whispered, "I'm sorry, Franjeer. I hope you're not hurt too badly." 

*******************************************

After a tense few moments waiting for an Imperial threat that did not arrive, they made the jump to light speed long before the larger and more agile ships could give chase. A few old TIE fighters were mobilised but Rorek, Page and Rorri picked them off with ease.

"Welcome to the Rebel Alliance," murmured Page looking at his passengers. An old man, a bewildered boy and a blank faced girl, with, he noticed worriedly, severe burns on her face, hands and arms. 

Page frowned. "How long until we get to the base?" he muttered to Char.

"A couple of days… I have to make a few jumps to make sure we aren't tracked."

"I don't like the look of the girl. She needs a medic and fast."

"That's our operative?" the twilek muttered. "When did we start sending children in to do such dangerous work?"

"When the Empire started killing children," Page answered. "She is quite a lady. A very cool head on her shoulders. Sometimes I think she's too cool. Danger doesn't worry her like it should."

"Hey!" Rorri rushed into the cockpit, his face frantic with worry. "It's Jamia… I mean, Maija. She just collapsed."

"I'm on my way." He gave the twilek a grimace. "See if you can do it in one jump less, okay?"

"Yeah, okay, boss."

Rorri and Rorek had half lifted, half dragged Maija to a bunk and the old man had already ransacked the medipack for supplies. Page frowned and administered a sedative. "That should keep her out until we get to base camp." 

"She'll be all right?" Rorek queried.

"I hope so. Jumping into a thermal detonator is not what I would have advised anyone to do. But I can see why she did it. Keep an eye on her temperature. There are bacta packs and cooling gel salve in the medipack."

"Sir!" Rorri asked. "How long will it take us to get…" he hesitated, "where we need to go?"

"Page," he said, shaking his head at Rorri. "My name's Page but I can't tell you where we're going."

The young man nodded. "I understand. But you will know who to give this to." He held out the datacards his mother had given him. "The information held on these is vital to the Rebellion. My parents…"

Page nodded. "I know who to give it to." Something in his gut twisted. He knew the innocent looking cards were important.

"When the information came in from my father, she… my mother went white. He was arrested first. She was picked up not long after."

"But she made sure you had copies and were safe."

The young man swallowed and gave a hesitant nod. "I don't know if I'll ever see them again."

"I wish I could reassure you, son, but I cannot."

"I know." The resolve in Rorri's voice told Page that the young man had grown up in a matter of a few fraught hours. He stared down at Maija's blistered face. "She will be okay?"

Page nodded. "I think so. Now try and get some sleep."

**************************************************

Nerano groaned. He felt as if he was on fire. She had stunned him again.

"Careful, Lieutenant." 

He awoke for the second time in the medical facility in the Triadon Garrison and was surprised to find himself covered with bacta bandages.

"What happened?" asked.

"I was hoping you were going to tell me that,"" Governor Markieer said.

"All I remember is a blaster pointed at my chest and then nothing."

"You had a thermal detonator in your hand and we have evidence that a thermal detonator killed Lieutenant Darklighter."

"She's dead?" Nerano's voice betrayed his shock.

"Yes."

"She said to save them she had to die. That was the last thing she said to me. She wanted me to defect to the Rebellion. She wanted me to go with her, but I could not. I tried to make her turn herself in…"

The Governor patted him carefully on the shoulder.

"Sir! She was in my class at the Academy. We were friends back then. We helped each other out. She helped me with Academic work and I helped her with her fitness. She was only fourteen when she arrived at the Academy. I hadn't seen her since we graduated."

"You don't have to talk, Nerano. You only did your duty."

"She was brilliant, Sir. There wasn't a computer system she couldn't master or a code she couldn't break."

"I read her file. Brilliant, as you say, but flawed."

"She was protecting the others."

"And they were?"

"An old man and a boy. Rorek and Rorri, she called them. They got away. She died so they could escape."

"You did well, Nerano. You'll get a promotion for this."

The large man wondered why he didn't feel any better about this. "My parents will be delighted. I hope I can continue to serve you, Sir."

"I hope so too."

"I wonder what information the rebels had."

"They had information?"

"The boy was carrying something," Nerano said. "I don't think he knew what it was."

"There were some unauthorised downloads, but nothing that could hurt us. Nothing important. Get some rest."

"Yes, sir." Nerano closed his eyes but his mind was busy. A mindless death for nothing important? What was it that drove these rebels to such futile gestures? He had no idea.

*******************************************

The light was too bright. Maija squinted into it and then closed her eyes.

"She's coming round." The voice seemed to come from directly above her head.

"Hey!"

Maija opened her eyes again. It wasn't so bright, but everything was fuzzy. "Water…" she croaked.

"Here," the voice said.

She took a sip and then slumped back on her pillows. When she opened her eyes again she was alone. A quick survey of her surroundings told her very little, but she was in a well-stocked medical bay. Possibly on board one of the big Mon Calamarian frigates.

"Finally, Lieutenant." A droid whirred beside her. "It is good to see that you are on the road to recovery. You sustained some nasty injuries."

"I did?"

"You did. I would suggest that stepping near a thermal detonator is not advisable in future."

"Yes doctor," she muttered meekly.

"You have visitors, anxious to know of your recovery."

"I do?"

"Maija." Rorri's eager voice breezed into the medical centre.

"Rorri?"

"I just got word…"

"Word?" she said.

"My parents were released and have managed to leave Triadon."

"Left…" She had mastered one word at a time it seemed.

"We're expecting them very soon," the deeper voice said calmly.

"Page," she said.

"You gave us a bit of a fright, for a while," he said.

"Sorry."

"Rorek and I…" Rorri hesitated.

Maija understood. "You're leaving?"

"We're going to a Rebel base. My parents will be joining me there. Page says there's loads of stuff I can to do to help the Rebellion."

Maija stretched out her hand and was surprised to find it bandaged. "I've never known anyone able to build and strip a com centre as fast as you, Rorri. May the Force be with you."

The young man blushed and smiled. "Thanks. What are you going to do?"

"I… I don't know."

Page intervened. "I have several ideas to put to Lieutenant Maija, Rorri. Don't worry. We'll look after her. She has a very special talent."

Maija froze. "I do?"

"Oh yes," Page murmured. "You do."

*****************************************************

Page grinned to himself as he waited quietly outside the officer's mess. He'd requested that the general he wanted to speak to be denied his early leaving window until he'd been approached.

"General Xen?" He stopped a wiry, grey haired man, with piercing eyes and a hooked nose as he left the room.

"Ah, Lieutenant Page. How are special ops these days?"

"I can't tell you that, Sir." Page grinned at the older man. "It's classified."

"It would be." The general glared at the younger man for a few moments before breaking into a gusty laugh. "So I have you to thank for the delay in my departure?"

"Whatever makes you think that, General?" Page said with a smirk.

"Hmm, I know you too well, Cullen. Well, out with it, man. I would like to get back to my people soon."

"I have a new addition to your staff."

"You do, eh?"

"Admiral Ackbar found her most helpful on Home One during her convalescence, Sir."

"He did?"

"He has requested her, should things escalate."

"Of course."

I want you to keep an eye on this one for me."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure, yet, but I think she has hidden potential."

"Oh, yes?" The general's sharp eyes gleamed.

"This is the best code encryptor the Rebellion has seen in years and with Imperial diplomatic training too. She should serve as a useful addition to your staff." He handed over a data pad file. "She's been undercover for most of her military career until now."

General Xen Xenon inserted the card into the slot on his computer and waited. "Page!" he said with surprise. "How old is this one?"

"Not old enough," Page muttered. "Accelerated programme. Outer Rim, parents killed on Alderaan. They were part of Organa's staff."

"Ah," the general murmured. "Poor kid. Bring her in."

Page clicked on his comlink. "Lieutenant."

The door hissed open and a slim woman walked in, smartly dressed in a perfectly pressed and fitted Rebel Alliance uniform."

Lieutenant Maija reporting for duty, Sir." Maija was unclear why she had continually avoided using her surname since she had joined the Rebellion but perhaps it might complicate things. Biggs was considered to be quite the hero. Plus there was the other matter of relatives she didn't want people to find out about. The ability in the Force she'd been born with hadn't returned. She wondered if it ever would.

The general stared at the woman. Small and pale with dark eyes and dark hair scraped back under her hat. She didn't look old enough to fight but, according to Page, had been one of his best undercover agents until her cover had been blown.

"Lieutenant Maija… Welcome to the Rebel Alliance."


End file.
